Fifth Year
by atrfla
Summary: Follow Ravenclaw Alyssa "Aly" Salinger through her fifth year at Hogwarts as her life tumbles through friendships, romance, and (of course) saving the world. A plague has come to attack Hogwarts... if she cannot contain it, the school will die, and the magical world with it. This is the first in my "Salinger Year" series... the next two, Fourth and First Year, are both up now!
1. Chapter 1: Arriving at Hogwarts

I climbed out of the Hogwarts Express, my robes tangling around my ankles and my hair getting in my face. I didn't care. The cool, crisp air smelled of the beginning-of-the-year Hogwarts feast.

My best friend Brooklyn Vawdrey followed me, balancing two cages on her arms. "Take your useless cat, Aly," she ordered, "or I'll drop it."

I retrieved my fluffy black-and-white feline from Brooklyn's hands. "He's named Dauncey, as you know very well," I retorted, smiling. I'd gotten Dauncey over the summer at Diagon Alley's Magical Menagerie, after Headmaster Damien and his group of- followers? Worshippers? I didn't quite know what to call them- had killed my owl Peltie last year, and my other best friend Rossalene Chung had spent most of the train ride fawning over him.

Brooklyn switched the other cage, holding her huge black owl Maycott, to her right hand, pulling the hood of her custom-made Twilfitt &amp; Tattings robe over her long, frizzy brown hair with her left. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Come on, let's go find a carriage."

"Wait- not without Ross," I protested, but just then, our other best friend popped out of the train, grinning.

"Sorry," she panted. "Someone dropped their stuff and I helped clean it up."

Brooklyn and I rolled our eyes at each other. Typical Rossalene. She was a true Hufflepuff: kind, sweet, and wholeheartedly innocent. Still, she'd proved herself a deadly fighter last year, when she'd taken out an entire group of Headmaster Damien's follower/worshippers with only a few assorted plants and her wand.

"Well, let's go now," Brooklyn said, moving up the hill away from us, "or else all the good carriages will be gone."

We sprinted up the hill, cages jangling, and arrived just before the first carriage started pulling away. I blanched at the thestrals but clambered into an empty-looking carriage near the end of the long, twisting line. I'd started seeing thestrals after last year's battle, and I wasn't _scared_ of them exactly, I just wasn't used to the large skeletal horses.

The door of the carriage slammed shut after Rossalene and Brooklyn climbed in, and we started to move. In the dim light of the flickering torch on the wall of the carriage, I could make out the shadowy forms of my two friends and...

"Bloody-" I caught myself before I could swear. "There's someone else in here!"

The person shifted uncomfortably. "It's only me. Polly."

"Oh, hi, Polly," Rossalene said cheerily. The two of us breathed sighs of relief. Polly Lider was a fellow Ravenclaw fifth-year, although she was so petite that you sometimes mistook her for a first year when you bumped into her in the halls. She was nice enough, but a bit of a know-it-all; Brooklyn had never quite trusted her after our second year at Hogwarts.

"Your brother's getting Sorted this year, isn't he?" I asked Polly.

"Yes." Polly could talk on and on if she wanted to, but her voice was a little airy, as if she wasn't fully paying attention.

"Cool." Except me, everyone in the carriage had a younger sibling- Brooklyn had Libby and Rossalene had Joshua, both third-year Gryffindors.

As my petty attempt at conversation died out, I turned to Rossalene, and we started to chat about Honeydukes's new line of longer-lasting sugar quills and when we thought the first Hogsmeade trip would be. It was a much more pleasant conversation.

When we reached the castle, Polly scrambled out first, then Brooklyn, Rossalene, and finally me. My best friends and I walked up the entrance stairs arm in arm, laughing and chatting, and we had just stepped inside the huge double doors when a water balloon smashed against the floor just to our right, soaking a poor second-year Hufflepuff boy and splashing a quartet of seventh-year Slytherin girls, who shrieked and made faces at the ceiling.

"_Peeves_," muttered Brooklyn darkly. "He needs to find some new tricks. Water balloons are so old-fashioned, he used them back in _Harry Potter_'s time."

"That was only fifty years ago!" Rossalene laughed.

By running and dodging, we managed to make it into the Great Hall without getting more than splashed a little. One of Brooklyn's Slytherin buddies- Alejandra Rice, a dancer who was more commonly called Leja- pulled her aside as we passed the green table, and Rossalene departed with a wave to sit with her friends at the Badger table. I took a deep breath and braved the Ravenclaw table solo.

Polly was sitting by herself near a gaggle of giggling fourth-year girls, and I took a seat across from her. Only when the girls had cleared did I see who I was sitting next to, and I nearly groaned aloud.

_Will._

Will Greene was my biggest student rival in Ravenclaw. He was perfectly nice, of course, and he'd fought on my side last year, but before that we'd always competed to secure the best grades. Third year, it had gotten nasty. I pushed the memories from my mind. Will was okay, but I'd still get the better O.W.L. grades this year.

Bad luck; Will turned, hearing something, and saw me. "Oh- hi, Aly," he said with a hint of a smile. The boy loved to aggravate me, but as that was usually only during class, he was being nice. "How was your summer?"

"Fine. Relaxing, after last year," I added with a laugh that was a little forced. "And yours?"

"It was nice." He seemed to be on the verge of launching into a story, but before he could, his eyes dropped to the blue badge upon my robes, showcasing one of my two newly acquired Hogwarts positions. "Prefect! Excellent." He pointed to his own badge. "I knew it would be you. Find me after dinner so we can show the first-years to Ravenclaw Tower."

I nodded, adding, "I'll do that, Will." I hoped he would take the hint, but Will plowed on. "I was surprised that they only had the Head Boy and Girl patrol the Hogwarts Express today. Do you think it was-"

I was saved from further talk by the new Headmaster, Professor Fourier, calling out, "Please settle down." I did just that, turning in my seat to face the dais. When I'd gotten the news that the über-intelligent Potions teacher- who had been Head of Ravenclaw House at the time- had been promoted to the position of Hogwarts Headmaster by the Wizengamot over the summer, I'd been super excited. Professor Fourier had been my favorite teacher. "Please sit so that we may commence the Sorting and the feast."

Slowly, the Great Hall quieted. The first years- _do they get smaller every year?_\- marched in, huddled in clumps. One tiny boy was obviously Polly's brother, as they shared their minimal height and thick sandy hair. I also recognized the brown-haired twins that were, ironically, the little siblings of the Hufflepuff fifth-year twins, Kayla and Ana Strait- friends of Rossalene's.

Professor Longbottom, the grey-haired deputy headmaster, appeared on the dais. He carried a small stool and a ragged old hat. Setting the hat on the stool, he placed the stool on the floor. He then cleared his throat and stepped back.

"Sing," the Herbology teacher commanded simply.

And the hat sang.

**If you've been confused, I'm really sorry- there will definitely be prequels for Aly's second and fourth years at Hogwarts, as well as (possibly) her other years. There will be a lot of references to those but I don't think I'll start to write them until Fifth Year is over. Bear with me, and if you have any burning questions, I'm willing to PM slightly cryptic answers to everyone who asks.**

**Also, you might want to check out the stories I've co-written with my best friend Ravenroset. They're under an account called Ravenflower- an Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Harry Potter crossover as well as a Ninjago fic. I'm Flower in that account. Ta!**

**~atrfla, or Flower**


	2. Chapter 2: The Sorting Hat's Song

**This is the Sorting Hat's song.**

_Some legends are told_

_Upon parchment, scrolls or books;_

_Mine is like none of these_

_Listen, you'll be hooked._

_Once upon a time,_

_There lived Hogwarts founders four,_

_And each their own House_

_They decided they should form._

_Bold Gryffindor, he only took_

_The ones whom bravery drove;_

_Smart Ravenclaw, she chose those for whom_

_Intelligence was a treasure trove._

_Sly Slytherin, for him the ones with_

_Purest blood were best;_

_And Hufflepuff, good Hufflepuff,_

_She simply took the rest._

_Now to this day these Houses stand, _

_As bold, good, sly and brave_

_As the day Gryffindor took me off his head_

_And Hogwarts itself was made._

_Today, in a moment, I'll sort you_

_Into one of Hogwarts's Houses fine,_

_You'll start your life as a witch or wizard,_

_You'll begin walking your timeline._

_As you can see, some have already started_

_Suffered through far more than you could believe;_

_And while you're safe from the horrors they went through_

_You're not safe... not entirely._

_Hogwarts will stand, as strong as a fortress,_

_While a danger attacks everything that can eat,_

_And while you'll be safe, the plants won't be-_

_So with that in mind, bon appétit._

**This chapter was very short, and I'm sorry- but the next chapter will be really long, I promise! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3: The Feast and Afterwards

Professor Longbottom pulled a scroll from his robes, cleared his throat, and announced, "When I call your name, please come up and wear the hat. First up, Abba, Brendan!"

A little blond boy tripped up the steps and plopped himself onto the stool. Professor Longbottom carefully placed the Sorting Hat on his tiny head.

The hat opened its rip of a mouth, hesitated, and then yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The red-and-gold table cheered as Brendan Abba gave the hat back to Professor Longbottom and ran off to join the Lions. I followed him with my eyes and watched him sit next to Nate Panther, the old Gryffindor Keeper from third year. Nate clapped Brendan on the back, and I smiled fondly. I loved first-years.

"Allister, Katie!"

A stunningly pretty redhead- probably a Weasley descendant- climbed the steps and sat primly on the Sorting Hat's stool.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Again, the red table cheered as Katie Allister joined it, sitting by the two most popular girls in Gryffindor- Lea Henshawe, who was rather outgoing, and Lorie Braithnoch, who was rather shy. Lea welcomed her with a big smile, even though Lorie was prefect. I could see the badge glinting off of her robes.

_Atkinson, Maudie... Bean, Briana... Brett, Zachary... Bryant, Esther. _Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw. I cheered extra loudly for those last two, noting where Zachary Brett and Esther Bryant sat so that I could collect them after supper.

After that, I tried to pay attention, but my thoughts kept drifting to last year's disastrous ceremony, when Headmaster Damien had started his reign of terror. How glad I was that this year was turning out to be normal!

"Lider, Ned!"

My head snapped up. Polly's brother was clambering up the steps to be Sorted- had that much time passed already? Apparently so, for Ned Lider perched on the stool. His legs didn't reach the floor and they wriggled like two of the tubers in Snargaluff pods. I heard a few Hufflepuffs coo.

Ned closed his eyes as Professor Longbottom affixed the hat on his head. It fell over his eyes, and he pushed it up, waiting.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Polly looked disappointed but relieved as her brother joined Brendan Abba at the Gryffindor table. She came from a family that highly disapproved of Slytherins, although some- like Brooklyn- were pretty cool.

The Sorting finished- Kayla and Ana's little brother and sister were Sorted into Hufflepuff along with their big sisters. Professor- er, _Headmaster_\- Fourier stood up.

"Thank you, Professor Longbottom," he said cordially. "Now, I know you're all hungry, but remember- don't stuff yourself, and fifth-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, keep away from the spinach pie!" He winked as laughter arose from the fifth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, myself included. We remembered the dangers of spinach pie from our third-year Potions class. "Now, in the words of the Sorting Hat... bon appétit!"

Food flashed into existence on the tables in front of us. The first thing I reached for, being vegetarian, was the spinach pie... of course. It was easily the most delicious vegetarian entrée on the table.

"He-ey, Captain," said a familiar voice. I looked up, nearly letting the potatoes I was serving myself tumble onto the table.

It was Lanie Kelling, the Ravenclaw Seeker from my third-year Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and she sat down next to me. The old Keeper Shawnee Haven slid into a seat across from her and beside Polly. I grinned at them. "Lanie! Shawnee! You heard?"

"We all knew it would be you," Shawnee laughed. She was a short, stout black Scot with a head of wild, coarse dark brown curls. "You're the best one on the team."

They were talking about my second newly earned Hogwarts position of importance- Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. "Thanks!"

"When are tryouts?" asked Lanie as she plopped a chunk of shepherd's pie on her plate.

I shrugged. "We just got here. I need to get my schedule and coordinate with the other Captains." I was one of 3 new fifth-year Captains (the only Captain who wasn't a fifth year being Austin Wood, seventh-year Slytherin, grandson of Oliver Wood and brother of fifth-year Tommy Wood, one of the former Gryffindor Beaters). "Anyway, you two are on the team, no question."

"No, no, no," Lanie protested, waving off my statement. "If there's someone out there who's better than us, hey, they deserve to be discovered."

"Anyway, I look forward to saving a bunch of Quaffles from certain doom," Shawnee said, reaching for the Yorkshire pudding. We managed to keep straight faces for a beat before bursting out laughing.

In third year, when Shawnee had first tried out for Keeper, she had gone up against a burly beast of a sixth-year who had stared at her though a curtain of shaggy, greasy blonde hair and grunted, "I look forward to saving a bunch of Quaffles from certain doom."

He had lost to Shawnee, of course; after that, he'd cut his hair and lost some of the unnecessary muscle, and when we lost a Chaser to the hospital wing later that season, Zach had been more than willing to step in for her.

"In that case..." Lanie put a cocky smirk on her face and winked. "Ain't nobody gon' catch that Snitch faster than me, you hear?"

"I wish I could do a Kitty," I commented, "but she never said anything like that to me."

Kitty, our previous Captain, had been a Chaser since our first year (her fourth). She had been really nice and a wonderful Chaser. Reuben had been another story. A cocky American of British descent with a thick Southern accent, he'd been shocked to have been beaten out for the position of Seeker in his fifth year by a second-year girl. He had softened over the next summer and tried out for Chaser when the three of us were in our third years and he in his sixth.

"I miss them," Lanie said simply.

I sighed. Two of the Chaser trio had left after their horrible seventh years to continue their lives; one lay buried in the gardens along with everyone else who hadn't survived Headmaster Damien's terrible year and the battle that had ended it. "Yeah. Everyone does."

When dinner (and dessert- yum) were finished, Professor- _Headmaster! _I really needed to get in the habit of calling him that- Fourier stood up once again from the ornate Headmaster's chair and walked to the podium.

"Now that you are all full, I'd like to extend a warm welcome to new and returning students alike," he began. "Welcome to Hogwarts. This is a school, yes, a school of magic and learning, but also one of fun. I guarantee that ninety-nine percent of you will enjoy the best seven years of your lives here. If you are the other one percent, I pity you.

"So. Now that my welcome has finished, I would like to go over some very important rules that have been in use since Hogwarts's founding."

Shawnee and I exchanged knowing glances. _This ought to be interesting._

But, of course, it proved incredibly boring. "Please stay away from the Forbidden Forest and the Whomping Willow if you are not in the mood for multiple injuries or a gruesome death. Also, our caretaker Argus Filch has asked me to remind you that all items from the shop Weasley's Wizard Wheezes have been banned."

I searched the Hufflepuff table for the other pair of fifth-year twins, Johnny Gonzalez and Matt Garza. In our first year, they'd found out that they had been separated and adopted at birth by two different families, and they were inseparable from then on. They were also the school's resident pranksters. Sure enough, I found them at the end of the table, trying to stifle laughs behind their hands. I smiled fondly, like I had with Brendan. I liked the twins (both pairs). Johnny was cool, but Matt was my favorite. Beneath his silly jokester attitude, he was really just a big softie.

"Finally, if you wish to try out for your House Quidditch team- excepting first years, of course- please give your name to your Head of House and they will notify you of the tryout date.

"Ah, I see some heads nodding and yawns out there, and who am I to keep you from your soft, comfortable beds? Go, so that you may be well-rested and alert for your classes tomorrow! Good night, students, and sweet repose."

Instantly the Hall was abuzz with activity. I ran up and down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, shouting "First years to me, please! Ravenclaw first years to me!" and amassing a large group of first-years behind me.

I met up with Will, who had also gathered a considerable amount of eleven-year-olds, at the end of the table. I took the lead, the line of first-years trailing behind me as I made my way through the doors and up some of Hogwarts's one hundred and forty-two staircases, heading for Ravenclaw Tower. Just as I was about to ascend the narrow, twisting spiral stairs that led to the Ravenclaw common room, I felt someone tug at my sleeve. Leaving the rest of the first years to go up with Will, I looked at the little girl, recognizing her as Dellie Thresher from the sorting. "Yes, Dellie?"

"You're Alyssa Salinger, right?"

I nodded. "What can I do for you?"

Her big brown eyes widened. "My big sister says you're a Prefect and a Quidditch Captain, _plus _you saved the whole school last year." With a start, I realized that her sister must have been Millie Thresher, one of the most popular Ravenclaws in the house- and one of my fellow fifth-years. "And she says you're top of the class, too. How do you do it?"

I smiled down at her. "Study, and manage your time wisely," I advised. Above me, I heard Will knock on the door to the commons. As everyone quieted, I hurried Dellie up the stairs so she could witness the riddle.

The melodic voice of the door's eagle knocker asked, "How can you create something from nothing?"

I held back a laugh. I'd gotten this very question in my third year, and it had taken me twenty minutes to figure it out. But Will had obviously never had this question, as the confused look on his face plainly said. Normally, I would've enjoyed watching him puzzle over it, but some of the first-years were practically asleep on their feet, and I wasn't about to make them wait.

"There is never nothing, so there always must be something," I called to the door. Sure enough, it said, "Nicely phrased" and then swung open. A few of the first-years gasped in awe.

"I never would've said that!" I heard a first-year whisper to his friend as they filed in through the door. Will kept it open for me, and I stepped inside, nearly tripping over the throng of first-years who had stopped in their tracks before I could separate myself from them and look at what they were seeing.

It must be admitted that the Ravenclaw common room was a sight to behold, even late at night. Starlight filtered in through the windows that arched high above our heads. Couches surrounded a huge table that sparkled in the lowlight, as it was made of glass panes and inlaid with crystals. Smaller tables and adjoining armchairs were scattered throughout the large, circular room, and a dying fire crackled in a fire pit in the center. Each window had, in addition to a fantastic mountain view, an attached window seat; the windows themselves were separated by big alcoves in the walls, each with an arched entrance and intricately carved walls covered in bookshelves. A bust of a woman inhabited the alcove directly across from the door- a serene-looking woman wearing a diadem, into which was carved Ravenclaw's most excellent motto: _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure._ The domed ceiling was dark blue, matching the carpet, but painted with stars; the white marble walls were covered with silky banners of blue and bronze where they met the dark blue ceiling. In the daytime, I remembered from years past, the abundance of white marble in the room had made it glow with a beautiful, natural-feeling white light.

"Whoa," breathed in a first-year, summing it all up.

"Wait until it's daytime," I suggested. "It's a great place to relax during free periods or after classes. Also to do homework."

"Right now, though-" Will pointed to a door that was flanked by bookcases behind the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw- "it's time for bed. Once we go through that door, there will be a hallway that splits into two. Witches go to the right; wizards, to the left."

I opened the door and entered the hallway, on the walls of which hung portraits of famous Ravenclaws. I herded the first-year girls- all eleven of them, a big group- to the right, while Will departed with a wave and the nine first-year boys to the left. After climbing a quick flight of steps, we came out into a hallway that had one door facing us and then turned to march back past the stairs and over the Ravenclaw commons, doors lining the left side.

"First years get the first room," I explained, opening the door opposite us. "Go on in. All of your things are already there."

The little first-years trooped in past me, with Dellie Thresher at the end stopping to give me a shy little wave. When they were all inside, I closed the door gently and went down the hallway past the stairs and three more doors.

My six fellow Ravenclaw fifth-year girls looked up when I entered. Polly went right back to unpacking her bags. Helen MacDougal and Millie Thresher both waved and said hi, but it was Shawnee, Lanie and my other Ravenclaw best friend Lynne Turnip who really gave me the best welcome.

Lynne rushed over and gave me a big hug. "Quidditch Captain, Prefect- what will we _do _with you, Aly? Congrats!"

I hugged her back. "Thanks, Lynne. How was your summer?"

"Oh, great!" she enthused. "I went to visit Grand-mère in France." Lynne's mother was French, and Lynne took as much pride in being half- French as she did in being Muggle-born. She had actually gone to Beauxbatons for her first year and transferred to Hogwarts when her family had moved to England. It was Lynne's French connections that had saved so many lives last year when, before fighting Headmaster Damien for the last time, we evacuated everyone third-year or younger to Beauxbatons. (Of course some stayed behind, but we couldn't help that.)

Across the room, Helen waved to get our attention. "Aly? I know you just got in, but the rest of us are pretty tired. Do you think you can wait to unpack until tomorrow so we can all get some sleep?"

"Sure!" I said. "As long as I can get changed first. It'll only take a minute."

"Go ahead," Helen allowed, and she and Millie withdrew into their spaces, as did Polly. I ducked into my curtained area, drew the drapes around me, and changed into my pajamas. When I had finished, I told the rest, and Lanie whispered a spell to extinguish the torches on the walls. I climbed into bed and pulled the warm covers over me, delighted to be back at Hogwarts- _normal_ Hogwarts- at last.

**Like I promised... this was a pretty long chapter. I'm always taking suggestions, critique, or just a "good job"... the lot! So what are you waiting for? REVIEW, please!**


	4. Chapter 4: First Day of School

The next morning, I was up and dressed before any of my friends. The only reason I was able to walk down to breakfast with Lynne, Lanie and Shawnee was that I had to (quietly) unpack.

At breakfast, both Lanie and I helped ourselves to large bowls of porridge; Lynne, who was _never_ hungry at breakfast-time and instead ate large lunches and dinners, nibbled on a fried tomato; Shawnee piled her plate with sausages and toast and set about making two breakfast sandwiches.

Schedules were handed out, and my day was booked full- Charms, double Herbology, lunch, double Potions and finally Transfiguration. I had a reputation to uphold, as a Prefect, of being on time to classes, so I left breakfast early, meaning to get to the Charms classroom and the newly crowned Ravenclaw Head of House Professor Brocklehurst's cheery domain. However, as soon as I left the Great Hal, I bumped into Austin Wood.

He steadied me. "Whoa there!" Then he saw who it was, and a grin spread over his face. "Hey, Aly. I actually needed to talk to you- must've been fate."

"I can't be late to Charms," I told him.

"No, of course not," he agreed, shaking his head. "It's just that the Captains' meeting is tonight. After classes. In the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom."

"Before or after dinner?"

Austin smiled. "Before. Nick and Kayla already know, so..."

"I'll be there," I promised, heading off to Charms.

And I was, after an exhausting afternoon with the new Potions teacher, Professor Burton, and the tall, sly, French Professor Descoteaux of Transfiguration. I slouched into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, straightened up briefly to bid good-bye to the short, potbellied Professor Gedding, and collapsed into a chair off to the side, bone tired.

Kayla Strait, new Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, entered after me and we had a lovely rendezvous. We were discussing Kayla's twin sister Ana, a cheerful girl who was fascinated with Muggles, when the door opened once again.

"Ah! Kayla, Aly!" Austin said pompously as he entered, as if he hadn't expected to find us here. "And... if you don't know him already, may I introduce-"

"Nick Justice of Gryffindor," said Nick, striding into the room. "New Captain. Hey, Kayla. Hey, Aly."

We both knew him already, of course- the tall, cocky, handsome Gryffindor boy with the ever-tousled caramel hair and laughing blue eyes.

"What were you talking about before we came in?" inquired Austin.

Kayla shrugged. "Ana's hair," she said bluntly. Over the summer, Ana and Kayla had gone to America to visit their aunt, and Ana had returned one night with half of her hair shaved down to a light fuzz of brown. They had then decided that the best thing to do was dye it, so Ana had come back to Hogwarts with the shaved side of her head colored pink with purple swirls, and the tips of what hair was still long colored yellow, blue and green. Not many people could have pulled it off, but Ana did, with a stylish confidence that accompanied her in everything she did.

"But we're done now," I added.

"Perfect," Austin said, sitting with us. "When were you thinking of holding your tryouts, everyone?"

"I was thinking the first Saturday of October," Nick replied before either of us girls could say anything. "I think that's the first?"

"I was thinking that too," Kayla said quickly after him, "but I could hold my tryouts on the day after- Sunday the second."

"I want mine done before September ends," I put in. "Maybe Austin and I could do our tryouts the weekend before- me on the twenty-fourth and him on the twenty-fifth. Then you guys could do yours on the first and the second. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good to me," Kayla said with a smile.

Nick shrugged.

Austin pounded the table with a fist. "Then it's settled!" he boomed, standing. "Good luck to all of you."

"Good luck," we echoed as he strode out, followed by Kayla. This left me and Nick standing alone in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Nick turned to look at me, and there was a short awkward silence where we just regarded each other before he said, "Quidditch Captain, Prefect, _and_ school heroine, huh?"

"Yeah," I said quietly.

"Congrats," he offered. "How do you _manage _it all?"

I saw a playful glint in his eyes, and so responded playfully, "By winning the Quidditch Cup, and after that, the House Cup. Oh, and getting a bunch of O.W.L.s."

He laughed. "What, do you want to be Minister of Magic or something?"

I shrugged. "Old Kingsley Shacklebolt is doing a pretty good job of it, himself."

"Yeah, but the _Daily Prophet _says he's going to retire in ten years," Nick started to say, but I cut him off with a laugh.

"You believe the _Daily Prophet_?"

Nick raised his hands in fake surrender. "My mum does... and anyway, he said _himself_ that he's going to retire in ten years, Aly," he pointed out. "Imagine that- youngest Minister of Magic ever! Twenty-five-year-old Aly Salinger!"

I pushed him, playfully. "Are you plotting against the Ministry, Nick?"

He gasped in mock horror, putting on an exaggerated accent just to make his words even funnier. "Aly Salinger, I _can't_ believe _you_ would _say_ such a _thing_!" Then he stood up, walked to the door and walked out, but poked his head back in to say one last thing in his normal voice. "Oh, and by the way, _you're _not winning the Quidditch or House Cups. _I _am."

Then he was gone, and I stood up and walked to dinner in a considerably better mood, chortling to myself.

**It's a short chapter, but I hope it'll hold you off until I can get the next one written.**

**(By the way, a big thank-you to Ravenroset, GriffinGirl, and the girl who Lanie is based off of. You guys are the best for reviewing and reading! XD)**


	5. Chapter 5: Day 2 and Tryouts

**I didn't want to have two boring chapters in a row, so... this one's two chapters mashed into one, and as a result, it's ****actually pretty long. Enjoy!**

The next day, I started off lessons with an incredibly boring double History of Magic class in which I really _did _try to pay attention to Professor Binns' lecture on Pierre Bonaccord, a nineteenth-century advocator for trolls' rights, and how he had offended the whole Wizarding community of Liechtenstein- who hated trolls, especially a group in the local mountains- and how that had led to the first meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards and...

I bewitched my quill so that it summarized the lesson and simply read _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _for the seventh time under the table.

The next class, double Defense Against the Dark Arts, was where things started to get interesting.

Professor Gedding, a squat man who was typically very jolly, spent the first twenty minutes of class drilling into us Ravenclaws and our fellows, the Hufflepuffs, the importance of our O.W.L.s.

"Students," he said impatiently when he had to rap the desk in front of Niamh Trevett- a girl with short, curly dark hair and thick black glasses who had fallen asleep during class- with his pointer. "These examinations- besides the N.E.W.T.s, there is nothing more important during your time here at Hogwarts! What you pail and fass now-" when Professor Gedding was agitated, he tended to mix up sounds and butcher words- "will decide your career choices and eventually how your life goes!"

Maria "Mari" Bird, the female Hufflepuff prefect and a former Hufflepuff Seeker, raised her hand. When Professor Gedding waved his pointer in her direction, she said, "Sir- Professor Gedding? I'm terribly sorry about Niamh. Peeves was terrorizing the Hufflepuff common room last night and he didn't stop until very late."

When I looked at the Hufflepuffs more closely, I noticed that their appearances certainly backed up Mari's story- especially Alexandra "Alex" Zobrist and Quinn "Ella" Nguyen, two sweet choir girls who were best friends and whose heads were drooping.

Professor Gedding must have seen them too, for he produced a whistle from one of the many pockets of his overly large trench coat and blew on it shrilly- succeeding in quickly awakening all of the sleepy Hufflepuffs. "Now," he said firmly, "now that you are all awake, please take out your textbooks and turn to page 394. We will be revising werewolves today. Who can tell me the visual differences, _without _peeking at page 396, between a common wolf and a werewolf?" He pointed the sharpened end of his pointer at a short Hufflepuff girl in the back. "I _saw_ that, Miss Trout! I said _without peeking_! Miss Kelling, can you tell us?"

After that was lunch, and Care of Magical Creature with the Gryffindors. As Professor Maduthy- a tall, plump woman whose hat was always crooked- showed us a knarl and set us to the task of identifying knarls among groups of hedgehogs, Nick and I made faces at each other from across the green where Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were separated into groups. We had to stop when Melissa Webb, a friend of Niamh's and Mari's, loudly asked if Nick had swallowed a knarl quill by accident. However, it was fun while it lasted, and I went to my next class with a smile on my face.

The next class, for all of the Ravenclaw girls except me and Lanie, was Divination; in fact, every fifth-year Ravenclaw took it except for myself, Lanie, Will, and a monotonous but kind boy named Eric Montgomery who had dated Brooklyn in our third year for a month. Lanie took Arithmancy, while the last three of us chose to have Study of Ancient Runes as our second choice class, which (in my opinion) was not only easier but also much more fun.

The teacher, Professor Ross-Campbell, was in a horrible temper when we arrived. She was pacing at the front of her spacious classroom, muttering under her breath as we students filed in. When the bell rang, she turned to us and said (rather bluntly):

"Come up front and take a copy of _Ancient Runes Made Easy _from my desk. We will be reviewing numerical runes today."

As I did what I was told, I smiled a little at the actions of Professor Ross-Campbell. She was usually very blunt and sharp, making her tone today pretty normal, but able to keep her temper. Some students described her as "the second Minerva McGonagall", a title which Professor-Ross Campbell alternated between hating with a passion and taking immense pride in.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" I asked, rather innocently, when I had made it to her desk and was hefting the topmost book off of the stack and into my arms.

As I stepped aside to allow my fellow students to access their books, Professor Ross-Campbell sighed, seeming relatively frustrated. "Nothing, Miss Salinger. I'm only a little... _irked_ that our Headmaster has ordered a week of review in all subjects for the fifth and seventh years. We have _so _much to cover, and _very _little time!" She took a deep breath and started obsessively straightening up her already perfectly-organized desk. "But it's naught of your concern. Please return to your seat."

I did so, a soft, knowing smile upon my face. Professor Ross-Campbell loved her schedule, and she positively _loathed_ when anything on it was messed up.

When I got back to my seat, I turned to Brooklyn, who had dropped out of Divination after her very first lesson two years ago. We sat next to each other and were Runes partners. "Numerical runes are so _easy_," I complained halfheartedly.

"Says you," she grumbled, flipping the pages of her book. "I can't remember for the life of me what the rune for _five _is-"

"Quintaped," I said promptly. "It's that great five-legged spider-looking thing, remember? Here." I shoved my own book, open to pages 7 and 8, at her. The pages showed everything from the Demiguise rune- meaning 0, stemming from the fact that the Demiguise had the ability to turn invisible- to the Hydra rune- meaning 9, the number of heads a typical Hydra had. I pointed to what looked like an oval with five legs at the very top of page 8 that very much resembled a five-legged spider. "That."

Brooklyn shuddered- her immense fear of spiders was well-known. She then checked that I wasn't lying; when I proved right, she pushed my book back at me and muttered, "Show-off."

"At least you'll never forget _nine_," I reminded her teasingly. We exchanged grins. The Hydra rune had been the first rune we'd ever learned- from a sixth-year Ravenclaw in the Great Hall when we were first years- and our knowledge of that rune had helped us survive our second year.

After Ancient Runes, most of the fifth-years had a free period. I, however, did not. Although Muggle Studies was known throughout the school as a "soft option", I took it anyway. As a pureblood, it was the one Hogwarts subject I had known absolutely nothing about when I had arrived on September the first of 2040.

The second I entered the classroom, I knew it was a bad choice to take the class again- even if I had rather enjoyed it for the past two years. Clusters of boys were grouped around the desks, talking loudly. In fact, I was one of a grand total of _four_ girls in the room- myself, Ana Strait, Rossalene, and Lorie Braithnoch. I found myself seated next to Rossalene and behind Lorie, who was sitting next to Ana.

Professor O'Cain, the fifth girl and the reason that there were so many boys taking Muggle Studies, entered. She bestowed a lovely smile upon us and called, "Please sit down." Professor O'Cain was the loveliest woman in possibly all of Britain and Scotland combined. She was also one of the smartest, but the boys who flocked around her wherever she went cared only about the red hair that fell in soft waves to her waist, or the soulful blue eyes framed in lush black eyelashes that peered currently out at us from behind oval-shaped spectacles.

"I see we have my lone knot of girls back here," she said in a lilting, laughing voice. "I expect you all to behave as well as my girls are now."

I sat up straighter in my chair and tucked a frizzy light brown curl behind my ear.

"Now, put your wands away," Professor O'Cain instructed, and the boys did so rapturously. "Today we are going to learn about Muggle technology. Please take out your copies of _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles _by Wilhelm Wigworthy and turn to page one hundred and twelve. Lorie, dear, will you please read the first paragraph of Chapter Six, _Muggle Communication_?"

Slowly but surely, the month passed by. We finished review in all of our classes, much to Professor Ross-Campbell's relief. We had two quizzes- one in Potions, the other in Transfiguration- both of which I passed with flying colors. One day halfway through September, one of the nifflers we were supposed to be digging for gold with during Care of Magical Creatures escaped. It ran around, dodging all of our attempts to capture it, and eventually found the pile of earrings, pocket-watches and other shiny objects on a small table off to the side. I managed to save my earrings from the pile, but it was a complete disaster for most of the class's valuables. It took Helen a week to fix the dent in her pocket-watch.

Finally, the twenty-fourth of September arrived. I woke early, hurried down to the nearly-empty Great Hall to fix myself a quick breakfast of marmalade on toast, and ate it on my way to the Quidditch pitch.

Not twenty minutes later, groups of Ravenclaws had gathered to try out for the Quidditch team. I counted twenty-five, which was a huge improvement from my third year. Only thirteen people had tried out for the team that year.

I organized the people into clusters of five and ordered each group to fly around the pitch. The first group's flying was disorganized and sloppy. The second group- made up entirely of giggling third-year girls- was better, but not by much. The third group had two rather good fliers- surprisingly, they were Lynne (who I didn't think had ever mounted a broomstick before) and Polly (who went faster than everyone else and almost flew into the goalpost, but righted herself at the last minute). The fourth group was okay. The fifth and final group- made up of Lanie, Shawnee, Helen, Millie, and Will- were excellent fliers. In a _V _formation with Lanie at the head, they zipped quickly around the pitch- _twice_\- before expertly landing and dismounting in front of me.

I blew my whistle. "All right! We're going to hold the Chaser tryouts first. If you don't want to try out for Chaser, please go sit in the stands."

It was rather difficult to do so, as I noticed a moment later. The stands were extremely crowded, every row packed with Hufflepuffs, Slytherins and Gryffindors- including both pairs of twins, Brooklyn, Rossalene, and (my heart skipped a beat against my will) Nick. When he noticed that I'd spotted him, I could've sworn he winked at me.

I stopped myself from swearing out loud from the embarrassment and turned to watch the first possible Chaser- a third-year girl from the second group who fumbled the Quaffle when I tossed it to her and promptly crashed her broom as a result.

Chaser tryouts went pretty much like that, but by the end, I had three decent Chasers- Millie, Helen and Lynne; the only three who hadn't dropped/fumbled the Quaffle, crashed their brooms, or talked during other people's tryouts.

Shawnee returned as Keeper after an outstanding tryout, as did Lanie to the position of Seeker. Then it was time for the tryout I'd been dreading all day- the other Beater's.

Will was going up against a shy, bookish sixth-year girl named Melody von Zeidler from the fourth group and a short, skinny, redheaded boy from the first group.

I let the twelve-year-old go first. He flew better solo than he had with his group, but he was still pretty terrible. Although, he wasn't a bad shot. I had released one Bludger and watched as he successfully batted it towards the stuffed balls I launched into the air, hitting nine out of ten. Still, when he was gloating over hitting the last one, the Bludger zoomed toward him and knocked him clear off of his broom. I had to catch him on mine and escort him to the ground.

Melody was next. She was an okay flier, and her aim wasn't bad, but she didn't have the build for a true Beater. Unless you were a great flier and had excellent aim, if you didn't have a Beater's build, you just couldn't be one. If I hadn't had perfect aim and the flying skills to match, even my height couldn't have saved me from my slim frame. I wouldn't have become a Beater at the age of twelve.

Will went last. Not only did he have the heighty, stocky build of an ideal Beater, he was also a really good flier and had awesome aim. He hit all ten of the stuffed balls, all while flying at breakneck speed next to the Bludger. I had no choice but to declare him my second Beater, no matter how little I liked it.

I was a little scared of getting teased for having a team of solely fifth-years. No. Not teased. _Harassed._ But, as I discovered on October 1, it turned out that I didn't have the only fifth-year team. Nick's team- Chasers Lea, Lorie and Conor (Mathieson- the Gryffindor male prefect); Beaters Melissa and Tommy (Wood- Austin's little brother); Keeper Nate; and, of course, Seeker/Captain Nick- was one too.

The first match was scheduled for the second weekend of November, but as it was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, I could train my team for two extra weeks before _our _first match- against Hufflepuff.

But before even the first Quidditch match, disaster struck.

**Yay! Cliffhanger! **

**By the way, you guys can thank the girl who Lanie is based off of for this chapter. She's been begging me for Quidditch tryouts, and I wasn't about to make her or the rest of you guys wait.**

**Finally, you can't forget to vote on my poll! So far, only one person has voted. Aly, Brooklyn, Nick and Lanie are leading with one vote each as the Favorite Characters!**

**R&amp;R!**


	6. Chapter 6: The Plant Plague

It was October the 28th, three days before Halloween. I had just finished a double Herbology period in which Professor Longbottom looked distraught while we wrestled Fanged Geraniums. I lingered behind, pretending to fix a pot that the Fanged Geranium I had been working with had smashed. After fixing the cup with a simple _Reparo _once my Gryffindor and Ravenclaw comrades were trickling out, I approached him.

"Professor?" I ventured cautiously, nearly tiptoeing up to the table on which he was halfheartedly tying up a Fanged Geranium. "Er- Professor Longbottom?"

He jumped, and all at once the too-feisty Fanged Geranium shed the twine that Professor Longbottom had been attempting to tie it up with and lunged forward, nipping my arm. I jerked back, but the plant hadn't done more than add another small cut to the ones up and down my arms (thank you, Fanged Geraniums).

"Aly!" Professor Longbottom said in a surprised tone. He was the only teacher to call students by their first names, and that along with his kindly nature made him the school confidant. Even though he was head of Gryffindor House, students from all of the Houses flocked to spill their problems onto his stooped shoulders and receive excellent advice. He just made everyone feel very _comfortable_, as opposed to sly, untrustworthy Professor Descoteaux; nervous Professor Gedding; and any of the other teachers (although ever-cheerful Professor Brocklehurst was a close second). "I didn't see you there. Can I help you with something?"

"Is something wrong, Professor?" I queried.

"My Mandrakes are sick," he explained quickly as he turned back to the Fanged Geranium and wrestled its mouth shut. "It's nothing that you have to worry about, Aly. Thank you for your concern, though."

"Sick?" I echoed. "What kind of sick?"

"They don't screech and wail like they should," he told me, giving in to my everlasting stubbornness and nosiness. "And one seems to be sleeping every time I pull it up. My entire second-year class now thinks I'm a fool for making them wear earmuffs to handle silent Mandrakes."

_And while you'll be safe, the plants won't be. _Unwillingly, the Sorting Hat's words echoed through my head, and I shuddered.

"I can help, if you like," I offered, pushing the words that rang in my ears from my mind. "I'll look it up in the library- quiet and comatose Mandrakes? I'll get on it as soon as I can."

"You're a godsend, Aly," he said gratefully. "I'd do it myself if I didn't have Mandrakes to look after. Thank you."

"I'll even see if I can get some of my friends on it, too," I promised.

He nodded. "Good, good. The more the better."

"Also, you might want to use the reef knot to secure that twine," I pointed out, gesturing to the Fanged Geranium whose mouth was successfully wrapped shut but not tied. "It's much better than the Ashley's bend knot, which is what you're using."

"An outstanding idea!" Professor Longbottom agreed, tying the two twine ends together with the reef knot. "But as much as I would like to keep you as a helper for my next class- the first-years this year are rowdy beyond belief- you have a class to get to, I presume, and you should get those scratches looked at as well."

I looked down at my arms. "Of course. Bye, Professor Longbottom!" Then I tore out of the greenhouse and sprinted for the hospital wing, determined to acquire a salve to heal the many tiny nicks up my forearms before Charms.

That night, after I finished my foot-long Potions essay on the use of moonstones in potion-making and practiced my Vanishing Charm until I had it down pat, Lynne and I walked out to the library. On our way, just as we were passing Gryffindor Tower, we ran into Lyndsay Winters.

Lyndsay was a nice Gryffindor girl who enjoyed only two things: Herbology and Quidditch. I'd watched her Beater tryout and it was my opinion that Lyndsay was much better than either Melissa or Tommy. Still, it was Nick's choice, and if he wanted to put together a weaker team- well, it only helped my team's chances of winning the Quidditch Cup.

When we told Lyndsay- who had fancied a walk- what we were doing, she pushed back the wide cloth headband she was wearing (she always wore one, and today's was red striped with gold) and grinned. "Ah'd love to help," she exclaimed in her thick Scottish accent. "The Mandrakes, ye say? They were fine when ah checked 'em last week… ah wonder what 'appened."

In the library, I spotted Brooklyn's long, wavy mane of dark brown hair hunched over a book, half-hidden behind a bookshelf. When we snuck over to sit next to her after obtaining a large stack of Herbology books, I saw that Leja was working with her too. _The more the better._

There were exclaimations of surprise as Brooklyn leapt up and hugged Lynne, and Leja grinned and waved to Lyndsay. Brooklyn and Lynne were talking a mile a minute, catching up on a summer-and-a-month's worth of goings-on.

After I explained what we were here to do, Leja shrugged and said, "I'll help. I'm tired of Potions, and moonstones are _so_ boring anyway, especially when Professor _Bleh_-ton teaches about them. I wish we had Professor Fourier back."

After I reprimanded her for calling Professor Burton "Professor _Bleh_-ton", I talked to Brooklyn, who consented to helping as well. We dropped the stacks of books we'd found in the Herbology section on the table and started looking through them. I myself speed-read through _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, by Phyllida Spore; _Goshawk's Guide to Herbology _by Miranda Goshawk; and _Plants with Minds of Their Own_ by Samantha MacGillivray before Brooklyn triumphantly held up _History of Herbology _by Henry MacHaffie and read in a proud voice:

"The Plant Plague. Plants who contract this illness suffer sluggishness, lethargy, and unwillingness to do things that they would normally do. Plants will also eventually slip into a sleeplike coma. The Plant Plague has been known to spread to magical creatures, but not to any organisms that have never come in contact with magic, inanimate objects, or humans of any kind. No cure has ever been discovered. The Plant Plague is believed to be a dead disease, as the last outbreak occurred in Scotland in 1491- _see Chapter Nineteen: Outbreaks_."

"Sounds like ye've found it," Lyndsay praised her.

"Should I tell Professor Longbottom, Aly?" Brooklyn inquired, peering over the top of _History of Herbology_ at me. "Or will you do it?"

"I just had Herbology today with the Gryffindors," I told her, gesturing to Lyndsay. "So… that means that you and the Hufflepuffs have it when?"

"Tomorrow," Leja confirmed.

"You can tell him, then," I decided.

Brooklyn applauded a little. "I'll do that!"

And with that, we disbanded to get back to our common rooms before the fifth-years' nine-o'-clock curfew. Against my will, as I trudged back to Ravenclaw Tower with Lynne, the lines from the Sorting Hat's song kept echoing in my head.

_Hogwarts will stand, as strong as a fortress,_

_While a danger attacks everything that can eat,_

_And while you'll be safe, the plants won't be-_

_So with that in mind, bon appétit._

**I made up ****_Plants with Minds of their Own_**** by Samantha MacGillivray and ****_History of Herbology _****by Henry MacHaffie. Those 2 books don't exist, in case you were wondering.**

**Please review!**

**~atrfla**


	7. Chapter 7: Gryffindor versus Slytherin

Professor Longbottom was pleased to know that we had discovered the illness that his Mandrakes had contracted. He was maybe not so pleased when we told him that there was no known cure, or when he found out that the Plant Plague had spread to his Fanged Geraniums. I would've felt bad, but my arms still stung horribly even after three long soaks in a tub of Murtlap essence.

Halloween was a Monday, and I was pulled out of Potions to help decorate the Great Hall. This gave me a chance to find out who the rest of the Prefects were- one found out very little about this sort of thing when they had mountains of homework every night. On the other hand, Peeves-that-bloody-poltergeist kept wreaking havoc as we carved pumpkins that had strategically been placed up and down the Hall. It was a rather difficult job, for while the carving was easy- we just pointed our wands at the pumpkins and waved them in the shape we wanted carved out- Peeves kept smashing our completed jack-o'-lanterns, flying in front of us and disrupting our spells, and stealing our wands. This went on until Grace Liu, the Slytherin female Prefect and a Slytherin Chaser as well as one of Brooklyn's worst-enemies-turned-friends, put him in his place with a well-aimed Bubble-Head Charm. Only, instead of encasing his _head_ in a thick bubble, it surrounded the poltergeist's entire _body_.

Peeves shrieked and pounded on the inside of the bubble as it floated above, unable to escape. We all doubled over with laughter and taunted Peeves until Professor Turner, the Astronomy teacher who was overseeing the decorations, reminded us that we weren't here to tease the troublesome ghost.

Eli Lupin- the oldest son of Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley-Lupin, and the Slytherin male prefect- nodded to Professor Turner, causing her to smile, then clapped Grace on the back (he was closest). As Professor Turner turned to give advice to Mari on how to carve a particularly tall pumpkin, Eli turned his head into a jack-o'-lantern. His skin became dull orange and bumpy, his bright white hair (thanks to his Veela blood) shrank back into his skull, his nose became so flat and squished that it was hardly there at all, his eyes turned black- just the pupils, thank Rowena, but it was creepy enough- and his teeth elongated and sharpened at the tips.

Eli had some very odd blood. Descended from a part-Veela, a Metamorphmagus, a Weasley and a werewolf (and that was only his grandparents), he had been born with what seemed to be a permanently very red face and white hair that nearly glowed in the dark. Then, last year, he had come into his Metamorphmagus powers. I'll say one thing for Eli- his timing was absolutely horrible. Headmaster Damien found it very hard to ignore Eli's hair turning bright turquoise during his opening speech and consequently controlled the poor boy, using him to spy on other students- although, halfway through the year, we figured out what he was making Eli do and managed to hide Eli in the Room of Requirement so that he wouldn't be forced to do our tyrannical Headmaster's bidding. He'd been instrumental in his former master's downfall, and now he had returned to his normal personality instead of the scared boy he'd been last year- a pretty decent guy, only with a habit of going out of his way to help Matt and Johnny in their pranks.

While Eli screwed up his face and turned his skin, eyes, teeth, nose and hair back to normal, I carved a pumpkin with the face he had been wearing. As I stepped back, pretty proud of my work, the Hufflepuff male prefect- Steven Dickens, an all-around goody-goody- nudged my arm. "Look," he said, pointing his wand at the bubble. Instantly, it was buffeted around as if it was a ball of yarn and two giant cats were buffeting it around.

Laughing, I did the same, even though Professor Turner had noticed and was storming over, her blond hair falling out of her carefully pinned updo. Decorating sure was a lot of fun.

Thankfully, I got off scot-free and was allowed to attend the Halloween feast. That night, I stuffed myself full of baked potato between Lynne and Lanie, the former enjoying her thinly sliced beef and the latter eating two fairly large helpings of chicken-and-ham pie. The whole school was enjoying seeing Peeves still stuck in his bubble, and more than one student had slyly pointed their wands at it and muttered an incantation, so that now the bubble was glowing and turning different colors, shedding light of pink, orange, golden and purple onto the students below. Although I did see Johnny and Matt pointing at the bubble and muttering behind their hands- so it was possible that they were either planning a prank concerning it or plotting a way to free the poltergeist.

October died in an explosion of cold winds and slush, and November arrived in a blaze of glory, capping the mountains and rooftops in snow. I had to break up more than one snowball-fight-gone-wrong that first weekend, and ended up participating in an innocent snowball fight myself. In which my team won. Just kidding, we lost horribly to the Gryffindors, but it was forgotten in the excitement of the first Quidditch game.

The day of the first match- Saturday the 12th of November- dawned bright and sunny, the perfect day for a match. It was even quite warm and although I didn't have to, I woke up early so I could get a good breakfast and hopefully a decent seat.

I was nearly finished with my muffin when the doors of the Great Hall burst open. In strode Nick Justice, his team behind him. The Great Hall fell silent immediately as they strode to the red table and sat down in a line with Nick at the center. As Nick pulled a plate of bacon and eggs toward him, the Great Hall burst back into chatter. I stuffed the last of my muffin into my mouth, chewing as I swung my trouser-clad legs over the bench and fastened my cloak. I headed for the doors, thinking, _I can get a great seat if I leave now and can get to the pitch without any-_

"Aly! Hey- _Aly!_"

-_interruptions_, I finished my thought with a sigh. I turned to find out who had delayed my leaving the Great Hall.

It was Nick. He ran up to me and grinned, rather sheepishly. Running a hand through his already-tousled hair, he asked, "You're coming to the match, right?"

I nodded, thinking about how he was just making his hair more ridiculous-looking every time he messed it up. "In fact, I was just going to score a seat."

He bobbed his head, obviously nervous- _about the match_, I told myself. "Yeah. I- I better go. Have fun."

He started to turn around and leave, but I reached out and said, "Nick." My fingers brushed his wrist, and he froze.

"Good luck," I told him softly before he could say anything.

He recovered and flashed me a trademark cocky grin. "Thanks."

And then I left. All the way down to the pitch, I assured myself that people reached out and touched his arm all the time. He was a Quidditch star, a Seeker and a Captain. He probably had girls falling over themselves to get a look at him, let alone grab onto his wrist. He just wasn't used to such softness.

_Or maybe he isn't used to _you, said a voice in my head.

"Shut up," I said to myself as I hurried down a flight of stairs and burst out the doors into the outdoors.

True to my word, I scored a great seat- right in the first row, next to the pitch. I was right next to the commentator's box, so I would definitely be able to hear the commentary.

For the commentary was always most amusing.

Sure enough, the day's commentator was none other than Lyndsay. _This ought to be fun_, I thought as I waved Rossalene over from where she stood confused higher up in the stands.

"And Gryffindor's team is arrivin'," she announced when the stands were full. "It's one of two all fifth-year teams this year, aye, the other bein' Ravenclaw." Her accent seemed to get more prominent when a whole stadium full of people was listening to her. "And here they come! Led by Justice, Seeker! Then th' Chasers, Braithnoch! Henshawe! and Mathieson! Followed by the Keeper, Panther! Bringin' up the rear are th' Beaters- Webb! An' Wood!

"Comin' from the other side of the pitch is th' Slytherin team!" She pronounced Slytherin _Slatherin_, causing a few confused murmurs to mix in with the cheers. "First, the Captain an' Keeper- Wood! Then the Chasers, Liu! Cheverell! an' Vawdrey!" Rossalene and I cheered extra-loudly for Brooklyn as she walked onto the green, a breeze picking up her long, wavy dark hair and playing with the locks. "Followed by th' Beaters, Trotter! and Greene! An' last is the Seeker, Trotter!"

The Trotter brothers (fifth-year Brandon, who was nearly as arrogant as Nick, and seventh-year Seamus, who was even more conceited) practically strutted out, preceded by Will's little sister Zola. I remembered her Sorting last year, especially how shocked Will had been to have a little sister in Slytherin. But Zola was sweet, nearly as nice as Brooklyn.

Seamus went to stand by Brooklyn, but she shied away and glowered at him. Seamus _always_ tried to annoy her, even at home- they lived on the same street- and Brooklyn hated him for it.

"Captains, shake hands!" ordered the coach, Sir Sutherland. He was a short, skinny man in his forties who had been a star Gryffindor Seeker back in his day.

Nick held out his hand. Austin grasped it pompously- everything he _did _he did pompously, so I don't know why I expected him to shake hands normally- and shook it firmly.

"Mount your brooms," Sir Sutherland instructed. "On my whistle. One, two..."

_Tweet!_

Fourteen people took to the air. Nate and Austin started guarding their ends, respectively. Brooklyn, Grace, Lea, Lorie and Conor started flying around. The last Chaser, Anise Cheverell of Slytherin, took possession of the Quaffle and started dodging Bludgers from Melissa and Tommy. The Slytherin Beaters, Zola and Seamus, flanked Anise, providing a personal guard and whacking any Bludger that came close with their clubs. Brandon shot up into the sky above the pitch, a smudge of green and silver on the blue, while Nick flew back and forth right in front of me, scanning the stadium for the Snitch.

"An' it's Cheverell, Cheverell with the Quaffle," announced Lyndsay, adjusting her cloth headband (dark brown pattered with small green-and-blue anchors today). "Sh' was the star Seeker two years ago, yet this year she's a Chaser, ah wonder what 'appened."

Anise, small and lithe with a head of short blonde corkscrew curls, easily dodged a Bludger from Tommy before Zola could hit it and threw the Quaffle with all of her might. It soared toward the goals and Nate.

"SH' SHOOTS!" roared Lyndsay. "SHE SCORES! Tha's ten-naught to Slytherin, and Lorie Braithnoch with the Quaffle- ah, she's hit by a Bludger from Zola Greene, she's got bloody guid- sorry, Professor-" she apologized to Professor O'Cain, who was standing behind her, monitoring the commentary- "she's got guid aim for a second-year, and Slytherin back in possession with Brooklyn Vawdrey dodging a Bludger-"

"GO, BROOKLYN!" Rossalene and I screamed as one.

"She's gotten past Henshawe and sh' _shoots_\- nice save by the Gryffindor Keeper, Mathieson in possession and- Brandon Trotter cutting in front of him, is tha' even _allowed_? Mathieson's dropped the Quaffle and Liu's picked it up, but- ah think Trotter's seen the Snitch!"

So had Nick. In front of me, he urged his broomstick to go faster as he raced down to the other end of the pitch.

"-and th' Snitch is gone, bad luck, boys... Liu pulls off a smooth lil' reverse pass to- nevermind, ah believe it was intended to Vawdrey but the Quaffle's been intercepted by Conor Mathieson of Gryffindor, did ye know that he's a prefect as well and younger brother to Hufflepuff Chaser Jamie Mathieson? Anyone?"

"I did," Rossalene whispered in my ear, "Jamie's quite fond of him, apparently she's very protective and refuses to let any girl come near him in case he gets his heart broken or something..."

"Don't I know it," I muttered under my breath. I'd fancied Conor Mathieson in first year, and it was a long story, but essentially Jamie had found out. She'd made my life completely miserable until I had to let my crush go. She still didn't like me very much, but at least we weren't enemies.

"Ah did," Lyndsay resumed, "but no matter as Mathieson _shoots_\- 'e _scores! _Ten-all's the score and Vawdrey's in possession..."

The game went on like that until the score was sixty-thirty Slytherin. Brooklyn had scored two goals, and each time, Rossalene and I had leapt to our feet, cheering.

It was just as Grace Liu scored another goal, making the score seventy-thirty Slytherin, that I saw it. The Snitch, golden and glittering, was hovering not two feet from my face. I could've reached out and grabbed it if I wanted to. I wasn't the only one who'd seen it, either- Nick was hurtling toward me, arm outstretched; he did a barrel roll to dodge a Bludger from Seamus and was joined by Brandon. Nick then did something remarkable- carefully, he put both feet _on his broom _and stood, wobbling, his arms outstretched to keep his balance. Then he leaped.

Nick's long fingers closed around the Snitch, and he caught his broom at the same time, but he was hanging from it and couldn't control it. I ducked as he went by; people scattered, screaming, as broom and Seeker crashed into the stands right above me.

Slowly, I stood up as the Gryffindor Seeker emerged triumphant and grinning from the wreckage of the stands, the tiny golden ball clutched victoriously in his fist. He caught me looking, smirked, and winked at me. "Did you like my trick, Aly?" he asked as Lyndsay boomed, "_One hundred and eighty to seventy, Gryffindor wins!_" next to me.

The only thing I could think of to say was, "You don't have to show off for me, Nick." So I did.

He winked again with one of those blue eyes. "Oh, but I do." And then he was sauntering off to his team, a proud grin on his face.

Lyndsay leaned down after announcing the stats and said in her normal voice, "Guid game, eh? Ah love the trick Justice pulled at the end- e's a bloody guid Seeker, en't 'e?"

Instead of staring after Nick like he probably wanted me to do, I said to Lyndsay, "Yeah. Great game." Then I started back up to the castle. When he glanced behind him to check if I was still there, I was gone.


	8. Chapter 8: Hogsmeade

**Mass Posting Part II.**

"Careful!" Professor Maduthy reprimanded the girl next to me. "If you hold the bowtruckle _too_ tightly, it will scratch you!"

Then she headed over to another table to tend to (and possibly scold) an unfortunate Conor, who had suffered the same fate.

The girl next to me adjusted her grip on the bowtruckle, causing it to thrash more. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong," she said helplessly to me.

"Don't hold its arms like that," I advised, holding out a small clump of squiggling brown woodlice. "And here, feed it this. It'll probably like you if you give it food, most of them do."

She took the woodlice and flashed a grateful smile. "Thanks."

Her name was Juliet Livesey, and she was one of Lea and Lorie's crowd- Tommy's girlfriend, too. No one knew her blood status because she'd been adopted by Muggles at a very young age, meaning that the stuck-up purebloods- what few of them were left at Hogwarts after Headmaster Damien- didn't have any reason to criticize her because she may well have been a pureblood. Kind of like Johnny and Matt, but they'd discovered their half-blood heritage last year.

"You're welcome," I said. "Can you hold it still? I want to finish my sketch."

"Do you think I'll get extra points if I include the woodlice in my drawing?" she wondered.

Before I could respond with a _No, not really_, Lyndsay's distinct accent said loudly, "Professor Maduthy! Professor Maduthy?"

I looked over at her- she was on the other side of Juliet, partnering with Lynne. Today's headband was light green patterned with patchwork brown and dark green plaid squares, holding back her light brown waves. She was waving her hand back and forth, and in her other hand she clutched a limp bowtruckle.

Professor Maduthy hurried over from lecturing Conor. "What's the matter, dear?"

"Ah think ah killed it," Lyndsay explained. She showed the teacher the flappy bowtruckle.

Professor Maduthy examined it. "No, it isn't dead. It seems to be asleep… bowtruckles don't normally sleep at this time of day, how peculiar…"

"Lyndsay," I said slowly.

She looked up at me. "What is it, Aly? Do ye have the same problem?"

"The library," I whispered. "The plants…"

She caught on immediately, and her face turned white. "The plague is spreadin'," she voiced softly.

Ruining the dramatic moment, Juliet gasped. "A plague? Oh no! Do you think it'll kill us all?"

"It's never spread to humans," I assured her.

"Does'nae mean it won't," Lyndsay muttered darkly.

Thankfully, she said it quietly enough so no one but Juliet and I could hear it, and if Juliet heard it, she didn't let us know. But Juliet still worried the whole way up to the castle after the lesson.

"Do you think the unicorns will get the plague?" she was asking Lea anxiously when I split away from the group. Before dinner, I wanted to drop my bag off and grab a book from my room.

I was reading that book (_Achievements in Charming_) at dinner when Brooklyn, accompanied by Leja and Lynne, ran up and tore my attention away from the book.

"Aly, Aly!" Lynne said excitedly.

"What, what?" I replied, marking my page and closing _Achievements in Charming._

"Tomorrow," declared Brooklyn passionately, "has been announced an impromptu Hogsmeade day."

"_Excellent_," I said, grinning and standing up.

"Lanie, Shawnee, Lyndsay and Ross are already coming with us," Leja informed me as we exited the Great Hall among droves of people going back to their common rooms.

"We assumed you'd want to come too," Lynne added.

"Of course," I told them. "Bring on the shopping!"

The next day was a Saturday, but I woke up early and dressed in warm clothes- it was chilly out. Grabbing my money pouch, I went down to breakfast. I was soon joined by Lynne, Lanie and Shawnee, and we shoveled down toast with butter and jam before meeting up with Rossalene, Brooklyn, Leja and Lyndsay outside the Great Hall.

It wasn't snowing outside, but the fluffy white powder decorated the rooftops of the Hogsmeade shops and the ground, too.

"Where to first?" Rossalene asked cheerily, pulling her faux-fur-hemmed cloak tighter around her shoulders.

"My cauldron's starting to melt, during Potions," Shawnee volunteered. "Maybe Ceridwen's?"

"But cauldron shopping's so _boring_," complained Leja. "What about Gladrags Wizardwear? I saw some _adorable_ magenta dress robes in the window."

"And I need a new quill," Lynne chipped in.

"What abou' this?" proposed Lyndsay. "We all split up an' meet up at the Three Broomsticks."

"I'll go with Lynne," I said.

"I'll go with Shawnee!" Lanie volunteered eagerly.

Brooklyn and Lyndsay went with Leja, and Rossalene tagged along with Lanie and Shawnee. Which left Lynne and I to go to Scrivenshaft's, something I was _not _complaining about.

As soon as we entered the shop, Lynne pointed at a display of multicolored quills and practically squealed, drawing the temporary attention of what little shoppers browsed the store (Scrivenshaft's was _not _the most popular place). She rushed over and picked up a quill of pale gold, examining it from every angle and testing the tip on her finger.

I perused the shop, picking up some early Christmas presents- a bottle of rainbow ink for Rossalene, some pretty cream-colored stationary patterned with black swirls for Lynne, and a sharp tawny eagle-feather quill for Shawnee. After exchanging fifteen Galleons and two Sickles for the gifts, I collected Lynne- who had purchased the gold quill- and we traveled a few doors down to the Three Broomsticks, where we found Leja, Lyndsay and Brooklyn at a corner table. We ordered another pair of butterbeers while Leja showed off her new pink dress robes, bright magenta silk patterned with small blue-and-purple flowers.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Leja nearly shrieked, smoothing one flowy pink sleeve on the table and pointing to the embroidered flowers. "Look at the detail on those petals! I'll be the envy of the Christmas ball!"

"The Christmas ball?" I inquired curiously. "What Christmas ball?"

Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Aly, do you _ever _pay attention in class or at dinner? Or do you just read?"

"I pay attention more than you think," I defended myself indignantly, "but apparently I wasn't when this was announced."

"You were _reading_," snickered Leja. Then she raised her voice. "Remember last year's Christmas ball? Headmaster Fourier decided that Headmaster Damien did one thing right- providing a night full of fun at Christmastime for all of the kids staying at Hogwarts."

"Last year's Christmas ball wasn't _fun_," I protested, "not with Headmaster Damien watching our every move."

"This one will be fun," Leja said loyally.

"He announced it at dinner last night," Lanie chimed in, slipping into the last empty chair at the table. "But I'm going home for Christmas… Mum and Dad are _super _protective, you know, and they barely let me come back to Hogwarts this year."

"I'm going with her," Shawnee continued, pulling up a chair. Rossalene did the same. "Which is why I'm not the least bit worried about _dress robes_."

"I have some blue ones at home, back in Rowena's Borough," I mused. "I'm sure Mum and Father will let me stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and send the robes to me if I write about the ball. They're quite supportive of this sort of thing, since they met at a Ravenclaw-only dance."

"Oh, I just bought some new ones," Brooklyn shrugged. "Green satin with gold trim. They're lovely, really." She gestured to a small bag hanging off of the side of her seat. "Plus, my old ones were wearing through. Anyway, this ought to be fun. I wonder if a boy will ask me to the ball?"

"Ah've already been asked," Lyndsay announced.

"_What?_" cried seven voices, one of them mine.

Lyndsay, obviously quite proud, smiled. "Ah knew ye'd all be surprised."

"In a good way, of course," Lynne assured her hastily.

"By _who?_" Rossalene exclaimed, voicing the question that was on everyone's minds.

Lyndsay adjusted her glittery white headband, looking pretty satisfied with herself. Then, with one word, she blew all of our minds. "Eli."

At the same time, we all blurted out different responses to this shocking event.

Lanie: "I knew it!"

Shawnee: "You're joking!"

Leja: "_What?!_"

Rossalene: "The Metamorphmagus?"

Brooklyn: "Eli _Lupin?_"

Lynne: "I can't believe it! Congrats!"

Me: "You two _would_ make a cute couple." (I made a point to be supportive of all relationship decisions my friends made, because I knew how much _I _hated it when _they _weren't supportive of _me_, and I figured they felt the same way.)

Lyndsay nodded at me. "Thank ye, ah think so too."

"But first," Lanie said, diverting the topic away from Eli Lupin and the Christmas ball, "we have a Quidditch match to prepare for. Seven days to go, right, Aly?"

"Yeah," I said to her, and then I added, "I need to go to Spintwitches for a jar of handle polish. I ran out over the summer, and Quality Quidditch Supplies was out when I went to Diagon Alley before school."

"I could use a new pair of Keeper's gloves," Shawnee chimed in.

"So, we'll meet the two of you at Honeydukes?" suggested Brooklyn, downing the last gulp of her butterbeer, which was mostly foam.

"Sounds good," I agreed, sipping the final drops of my drink and standing. "See you there."

At Spintwitches, the sporting goods shop just down the lane, Shawnee tried on pair after pair of Keeper's gloves- made from every material from dragon hide to steel mesh to plain old leather- while I picked up a medium-sized jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, my favorite brand. On my way to the counter, I also grabbed a Mini Broomstick Servicing Kit for Brooklyn, which contained a small bottle of the same handle polish; a vial of powder that, when mixed with water, provided a dry grease for your hands that kept them from slipping off the broom (something Brooklyn's tended to do often); and a little booklet entitled _The Care and Keeping Of Your Broom_.

I was third in line when someone nudged my shoulder. "Handle Polish, eh? I suppose that the Ravenclaw Captain can't have anything less than a spotless broom. And oh, what's that? A Mini Broomstick Servicing Kit? Buying Christmas presents already? I knew you were an overachiever, Aly, but we're still more than a month away!"

I turned around and looked into the grinning face of Nick Justice.

"I'm not an overachiever!" was the first coherent thing that came to mind. _What are you doing with him? _was the second.

Nathan Price was standing next to Nick. He was my first boyfriend, from third year. He was devoted, to say the least. Even clingy. And I couldn't stand that. I mean, Nathan was nice and sweet and a good athlete (even if it was all Muggle sports- Nathan couldn't stand Quidditch, Nick had probably needed to physically drag him into the store), but he wasn't right for me, and he resented me for breaking up with him. And I knew why Nick and Nathan were standing together- they had been best friends since our second year.

"She kind of is," Nathan muttered.

My temper flared, but I kept my anger down and my attention on Nick. "What are you doing here, Justice?"

"Ooh, we're on last-name terms now?" he smirked. "Well, _Salinger_, you're not the only one who needs Quidditch supplies." He held up a pair of Omnioculars. "I'm buying these because of _you_, Aly. I'm expecting a good match next weekend, and plus, they're _much_ cheaper now than they will be at next year's Quidditch World Cup." He directed his attentions to Nathan then, and I was able to turn away, freed from those eyes- but I could still hear their last words of conversation as I stepped up to the counter and handed over ten Galleons, fifteen Sickles and a Knut for the Mini Broomstick Servicing Kit and the handle polish. "Can you believe it's in Scotland this year? I can't wait… I've already got tickets!" (To which Nathan replied, "Just be quiet, Nick, you know I hate Quidditch.")

Shawnee and I left soon after, Shawnee's new hardened-leather gloves tucked safely inside her bag. As we approached Tomes and Scrolls, the ancient bookstore that was one of the oldest shops in Hogsmeade, I kept glancing wistfully at the window display (a pile of history books, worn with age). As Leja and Brooklyn had made fun of in the Three Broomsticks, reading was one of my favorite hobbies. All I had to do was skim the pages- faster than anyone in the fifth year and possibly the sixth as well- and I practically absorbed the information.

"Oh, go in," Shawnee sighed, diverting my attention. "I know you want to, plus I have to buy Lanie a Christmas gift. And they're not expecting us at Honeydukes for a while yet- we fairly breezed through at Spintwitches, I didn't expect it to be so empty, not with the match a mere week away…"

With no further persuasion needed, I ducked inside the nearly-empty bookshop and buried my nose in a huge Herbology book entitled _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean, _by Hadrian Whittle. As my eyes scanned a paragraph about the magical properties of seaweed, I tried to focus on the book, _only _the book, but my mind kept drifting back to Nick.

_Damn it_, I reminded myself, _no thinking about him. You're only doing so because he was with Nathan, and he called you an overachiever, neither of which you like._

I didn't buy the Herbology book- surely I could find it in the Herbology section of Madam Pince's immaculate library- but Shawnee bought a newly published book called _Best Quidditch Players of the Twentieth Century _for Lanie, and that was good enough for a trip to the bookstore.

We met the other six girls in Honeydukes, where Rossalene was hovering near the sample tray of white chocolate fudge and Lanie and Brooklyn were exclaiming over a new exhibit of Extra-Large Peppermint Toads, Lanie's favorite. Lyndsay, Leja and Lynne were clustered in line behind a very ugly witch who looked suspiciously like a hag, chatting animatedly, each clutching boxes of nougat, containers of sugar quills, and bags of toffees and exploding bonbons. It took all of my self-control not to leap towards the shelves of chocolate and gather it all into my arms. Books and chocolate, yep, that's me- Aly Salinger, bibliophile and chocoholic.

On our way back up to the castle, our conversations were divided. Lyndsay, Brooklyn, Rossalene and Leja- the second-to-last of whom was still snacking on one last white chocolate fudge sample- had no Quidditch match in a week that they had to prepare for, so they talked loudly and excitedly about the Christmas ball ("I still can't believe Eli asked you to the ball!" "Ah know, and those dress robes ye have are just beautiful!") while Shawnee, Lynne, Lanie and I worried over the Quidditch match ("We're playing Hufflepuff, so it ought to be a pushover." "Don't say that, Lanie, they nearly beat us the last time we played them- remember?" "Plus, Kayla's put a good team together. We ought to try out some new formations this week at practice.") And we did, practicing nearly every night up until Friday. I woke up Saturday morning feeling both very pleased with my team and very anxious for the match ahead.

**I can't wait for the reviews on this. Don't keep me waiting!**


	9. Chapter 9: Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff

**Mass Posting Part III.**

I forced myself to eat a decent breakfast on the day of the Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff Quidditch match instead of what I really craved, a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate. Juicy grapes, buttery toast and highly peppered eggs were shoved mechanically into my mouth. At least I wasn't as nervous as one of the Hufflepuff Chasers- Nicole Trout, one of Leja's friends (a girl whom in my opinion really was a Slytherin and not a Hufflepuff)- looked. Nicole's face was green and she wasn't eating anything. Nicole was a newer find for Kayla, and not a bad Chaser either- I'd watched her tryout, and she was actually decent- but it was her first real Quidditch match. And she was going up against a team of which three people had been on the winning third-year Ravenclaw team.

I adjusted my cloak as I left the Great Hall. On the way to the field, I nearly knocked into Steven Dickens. He had a very red nose and sneezed as I helped him up.

"Are you okay, Steven?" I asked curiously as I assisted him in getting to his feet. "You sound sick."

"I'm fine, thanks," he assured me in a wheezy voice that said the complete opposite of his statement. "It's just a common cold. I've had it for a few days now. I think I was outside for too long in Hogsmeade. But good luck today, Aly." He chuckled, but it sounded forced. Then again, all of Steven's laughs sounded forced. "I'm still hoping for a Hufflepuff victory, of course, but good luck anyway."

"Thanks," I told him, and the sniffling Prefect set off toward the Great Hall's large wooden entrance doors.

Shaking off my encounter with the sick boy, I headed for the Quidditch pitch. "I just hope I don't catch his cold," I muttered under my breath as I hurried into the changing rooms in the stadium and changed into my thickly padded Beater's gear.

As I pulled on my strong leather gloves and picked up my favorite notched and worn Beater's bat, hefting it from side to side and stretching my arms, the rest of my team members trickled in, chattering like magpies. They changed and grabbed their broomsticks. While we stretched, Lanie and Shawnee fenced briefly with Shawnee's new gloves, _loosening them up_, they claimed. Still, when I suggested a more reasonable way of loosening them up- putting them on and doing stretches like they were supposed to do- they did that instead.

We finished our stretches and when Sir Sutherland poked his head in to inform us that the match would be starting in five minutes, I began my very first Captain's Pep Talk.

"We've got a great team here," I told the six people in assorted positions around the small room between the boys' and girls' changing rooms- perched on the benches (Lanie, Shawnee and Lynne), sitting on the floor (Millie and Helen), and leaning against the wall (Will). Pacing, I kept talking. "We've got three girls who are the fastest, smoothest Chasers in the whole school." (Helen and Lynne broke into grins, and Millie- for whom this was also her first official game, so she too was anxious- managed a nervous smile.) "We've got the nimblest Seeker in the garrison." (Lanie smiled and flexed her shoulderblades, stretching forward to touch her toes- something I still couldn't do even after years of stretches.) "We've got the fiercest Keeper that Ravenclaw has ever seen." (Shawnee cracked her knuckles; I tried not to flinch, but it was habit.) "And two-" I tried to stop myself, but the pun slipped out anyway- "_unbeatable _Beaters."

Millie, Helen, Shawnee and Lanie all groaned playfully, and Lynne waved her hand at me halfheartedly. "You're _horrible_, Aly."

"Try out those new moves we've been practicing," I advised when everyone had recovered from my bad pun. I pointed at Lanie. "Remember that Wronski Feint movie we modified on Wednesday night so we wouldn't injure the other Seeker?" When Lanie nodded, I continued, "Pull that off and soon they'll be calling it by its true name- the Lanie Feint." As Lanie grinned proudly, sitting up straighter and brushing her light brown hair out of her eyes, I directed my attention to Shawnee. "Remember to guard your middle hoop, and that Hufflepuff Chasers like to feint a lot, and-"

"Save a bunch of Quaffles from certain doom," droned Shawnee. "I know."

"I was going to say _never leave the scoring area_," I told her to the giggles of Millie and Lynne, "but yeah, that too. Millie, Helen, Lynne-" I turned to them- "the formations we practiced? Use them. We'll start out with me and Will-" I pointed to myself and then to the blond boy- "revolving around and over whoever takes the Quaffle. The other two- one above, one behind. Got that?"

All four- the three Chasers and Will- nodded.

"Remember," I reminded the three Chasers, "you are a seamless team. You move as one person. Just fly. Don't worry about the Bludgers."

I hefted my club higher on my shoulder as the day's commentator- Lyndsay, once again- started announcing the game as the second game of the season, Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff.

"We'll protect you."

We marched out in formation, with me at the front holding my bat over my shoulder. Lanie and Shawnee stood behind me and to my sides, with Lynne behind and in the middle of _them_. After that, the pattern repeated, with Millie and Helen flanking Lynne to the back, and Will behind them bringing up the rear as Lyndsay boomed, "Salinger!- Kelling!- Haven!- Turnip!- Thresher!- MacDougal!- aaand- _Greene!_"

We got a loud roar from our blue-clad supporters- I spotted Brooklyn near the commentator's box waving a Ravenclaw banner in the air, even though she was dressed in Slytherin green- as Lyndsay flashed me a smile and shouted, "An' now the Hufflepuffs!" We formed a line, even though what I really wanted to do was form a huddle. It was cold and cloudy outside, but not snowing, thank Rowena- not great flying weather, but not bad either. A cold wind played with our cloaks and hair, making me wish I had Shawnee's head-encasing helmet to keep my exposed ears warm and my curly brown ponytail from getting frizzy and windblown. My hair + wind equals _complete and total mess. _I was glad I'd thought to put it in a ponytail before going down to breakfast.

"Strait- Trout- James- Mathieson- Zobrist- Henshawe- and- _Bird!_"

The Hufflepuff side cheered loudly as Kayla walked onto the pitch opposite us, followed by her Chasers- Nicole, a slightly vain girl named Faye James who was in her sixth year, and Jamie Mathieson, all in line; behind them were Alexandra Zobrist, one of the girls who'd accidentally fallen asleep in Professor Gedding's class at the beginning of the year, and Jay Henshawe, Lea's older seventh-year brother, side by side, both carrying Beater's bats; and Mari, her hair in many tiny braids. She had left her usual cat-ear headband- which she wore almost every weekend- in her dorm, apparently, as it wasn't present.

"Captains, shake hands," ordered Sir Sutherland. Kayla held out her hand, which I loosely grasped and shook. She offered me a small smile, which I returned kindly.

"On my whistle," Sir Sutherland instructed us. "One- two-"

_Tweet!_

I kicked off, feeling the cold wind against my face. Even with its sharp bite, it felt good to be in the air playing a real seven-on-seven Quidditch game again.

Immediately, Will and I surrounded Lynne (who had the Quaffle), soaring over and around her. I whacked an incoming Bludger from Alexandra at Nicole Trout, who had been getting closer. She dodged it, but only narrowly.

We raced down the pitch, Millie above us and Helen behind. I could distantly hear Lyndsay's commentary as the cold wind whipped my hair against my ears and neck. (It wasn't long enough to reach my face.)

"Nice revolvin' wing formation the Ravenclaw Beaters have got goin', eh? Combined with the Triangle Formation that the Chasers are formin', it oughta be a difficult one to beat… sure enough, Turnip's made it to the scorin' area, nice Bludger from Henshawe deflected by Greene, and she _SHOOTS_\- Lynne Turnip o' Ravenclaw's scored, it's ten-naught Ravenclaw-" here a loud cheer rose from the Ravenclaw end, coupled with groans from the Hufflepuff end, but I ignored it and whacked an offending Bludger at Faye, who had the Quaffle- "guid job Lynne, bad luck Kayla… er, ah mean Turnip an' Strait, sorry Professor, ah forgot ah'm nae supposed to use their first names… James wi' the Quaffle, goin' on her own, nice Bludger from Salinger-" I grinned with pride- "she's dodged it but she's dropped the Quaffle… _right_ into Thresher's hands, an' Thresher's tearin' back up the field, guarded by Greene and MacDougal- she shoots- Strait's saved it, guid job Kay- er, I mean Strait, an' Hufflepuff's in possession… Trout's wi' the Quaffle, nearly misses Mathieson an' she's heading for Haven, who's a rather guid Keeper…"

Ten- nothing. Ten- ten. Twenty- thirty. Soon the score was seventy- sixty, and we were winning, but Shawnee fumbled what should have been an easy save from Jamie Mathieson and we were tied, and I was getting worried- no one had seen hide nor hair of the Snitch yet.

I called a time-out, and the Hufflepuff team flew off to the other side of the pitch to converse. I landed on the grassy field in front of the commentator's box, and my team touched down around me.

"How could you drop the Quaffle?" Helen, who was a bit more competitive than the rest of us, hissed at Shawnee.

"Don't berate Shawnee," I told her, pushing down my own competitive instincts to do the same thing. "You've fumbled the Quaffle once this game, too."

Helen flushed- no doubt remembering her fumble, the one that had led to Jamie Mathieson scoring the fourth goal for Hufflepuff.

I turned on Lanie. Her face was bright red as well, but from the cold wind this time. Lanie had been flying higher up than the rest of us, looking for the Snitch. "Well? No luck?"

She shook her head miserably. "No, and Mari hasn't seen it either."

I'd seen their brief exchange earlier, after our fifth goal, and I'd assumed that they were speaking about something of the sort. "Hmm. Well, if Mari's just as concerned, you'll _definitely _want to try out that modified Wronski Feint. Just make sure that she hasn't seen the _real_ Snitch," I warned.

"You got it, boss," Lanie joked with a smile.

I signaled to Sir Sutherland, who blew his whistle to resume play. We rose into the air and dispersed.

"Th' end to a short time-out called by the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, an' they're all back in the air, looks like it's MacDougal wi' the Quaffle," Lyndsay announced. "Pulls off a guid side pass t' Thresher, but- oh, she en't there; she's been hit wi' a Bludger an' instead Trout catches it, nice Bludger from Greene and MacDougal back in possession, she's rather competitive, this oughta be guid- wait, it- _wait, ha' the Ravenclaw Seeker seen the Snitch?_"

My head snapped up from focusing on protecting Helen. Lanie was speeding towards the Hufflepuff side of the stadium. I glanced back at the Ravenclaw end. Sure enough, the Snitch was hovering over Shawnee's left goalpost- and no one but Shawnee, Lanie and myself had noticed it.

Everything stopped as I watched, as if in slow motion, Mari follow blindly after Lanie, squinting and pushing a few of her many small braids out of her eyes as if she couldn't see the Snitch- which she couldn't, as it wasn't there. Lanie was performing a new move we'd made up, a variation on the Wronski Feint- the Lanie Feint.

When Lanie noticed that Mari was following her at a reasonable pace and that she wasn't far behind, she braked abruptly, swung her broom around, and shot off towards Shawnee and the Ravenclaw goalposts as fast as her broom would allow.

I could see Mari look around in confusion as the rest of us- Beaters, Chasers, Keepers, and audience- froze. Kayla shouted at her from where she flew anxiously in front of her left goalpost, pointing at Lanie, who was now halfway across the field, and waving her arms. Comprehension dawned as Mari realized that she'd been tricked and she followed Lanie, slowly gaining on her.

She caught up with my Seeker five feet from the Snitch. They were neck and neck…

"No!" I screamed in horror. As a last-ditch effort, I whacked the nearest Bludger straight at the small of Mari's back.

But I was too late to do anything. Fingers had closed around the Snitch…

…Lanie's fingers.

Thankfully, Mari dodged the Bludger, so I didn't have to worry about hurting a fellow Prefect- _and we had won! _I let out a large _whoop _of mixed joy and relief. Then I flew over to Lanie and clapped her on the back, congratulating her on a perfectly pulled off Lanie Feint.

"Guid game!" Lyndsay declared. "Final score, two hundred an' twenty to seventy, guid job Ravenclaw!"

My team gathered on the ground for one last big group hug, laughing. As I looked up into the stands to grin at Brooklyn, I saw the wink of Omnioculars behind her. The person wearing them pulled them away from his face.

Nick flashed me a thumbs-up as I looked at him, and I returned the gesture eagerly with a smile. Brooklyn obviously thought it was meant for her, because she grinned and gave me _two_ thumbs-ups.

Then we all put one of our hands in the center- first Will's, then Millie's, then Helen's, then Shawnee's and Lanie's, Lynne's on top of Lanie's, and my long, pale fingers atop of Lynne's tan hand. "RAAAAVENCLAAAW!" we yelled as one, laughing, yanking our hands away and throwing them up into the air.

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," Lanie added laughingly in a singsong voice.

"That," agreed Helen, "and a Quidditch Cup!"

We went back up to the castle, relieved, hungry, happy. I had forgotten how fun it was to play Quidditch.

**One more chapter until the Christmas Ball! I can't wait... can you? Review please!**

**~atrfla/Flower**


	10. Chapter 10: Christmas

**Here you go. The moment we've all been waiting for... drumroll please... the Christmas Ball!**

"Wake up, wake up, wake _up!_" a voice badgered me. "It's _Christmas!_"

Hands shook me, and I opened my eyes. "Blimey, Lynne, can you be a little more gentle?"

She pointed to the foot of my bed, where a pile of colorfully wrapped gifts was waiting for me. "Who needs _gentle? _You have _presents!_"

"Honestly," I groaned as I sat up and pulled the bedcovers off, "sometimes I think you aren't a Ravenclaw at all. You're a Hufflepuff in disguise."

Lynne just smiled and disappeared behind my curtains. When I opened them, I found that all six of my dorm-mates were already up and opening presents.

"I love the stationary," Lynne called to me from on top of her bed, where she was holding up the cream-and-black stationary I'd bought her at Hogsmeade.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Christmas Edition?" gasped Helen, unwrapping the present I'd gotten her. "And _Charms to Make Your Hair Curl_? Oh, thank you, guys!" She ran over to me and Millie and flung her arms around us both, obviously feeling the Christmas spirit.

"Oof," I said. "Oh, okay." I extracted myself from the uncomfortable, Rossalene-like hug. "You're welcome."

"What are you waiting for?" Lynne urged, pausing in tearing the red paper off of her gift from Lanie to berate me. "Open your presents!"

So I did. I unwrapped a box of Special Edition White Chocolate Christmas Frogs from Brooklyn; a package containing two Sugar Quills, a bar of Frog Spawn Soap for pranks, and a Nose-Biting Teacup from Shawnee; a pair of floaty dark blue satin dress robes patterned with a splash of silver sparkles across the right shoulder, chest and sleeve from Leja and Lyndsay; a bottle of perfume from Lanie that smelled like orchids, my favorite flower; a stack of books from my parents; a vial of wand polish and an embroidered handkerchief from Lynne; two charms for my favorite Muggle charm bracelet, a miniature number _5 _from Helen and a little Christmas tree from Helen, both made from silver that would never need to be polished; and a few other assorted gifts, like some fudge from Rossalene.

"Oh, guys!" I smiled at them all. "They're _perfect. _Thank you."

Christmas lunch was light, just enough to hold us off until the Christmas ball and dinner. Everyone was _super _excited, even though Lyndsay was the only one of us Hogsmeade girls to score a date. It didn't mean that others hadn't, though. Millie and Helen were going with Nate Panther and Brandon Trotter (I'd choked with laughter when I first heard _this_ piece of news- Helen and Brandon?). Juliet and Tommy were obviously going together, as were Matt Garza and a Goth Slytherin pureblood named Cheryl London, or just Cher. For a Goth, she was actually really nice. Grace Liu and Conor Mathieson were going together as well. Same with Mari Bird and Niamh Trevett, who'd started dating even though some idiots at the school opposed two girls going out. (They honestly were a very adorable couple.)

After a (peaceful, mostly, but definitely rule-abiding) snowball fight outside, the four of us Ravenclaw girls (minus Polly, of course, who was antisocial anyway but was spending Christmas with her brother; and Lanie and Shawnee) bid goodbye to Leja, Lyndsay, Brooklyn and Rossalene- who had lost against our fierce onslaught of snowballs- and traipsed through the thick, swirling flakes of white to get back to our common room and dorm to get ready for the ball.

I dressed in my new dress robes. Lyndsay and Leja had explained that they'd written to my parents soon after me, explaining not to worry about sending my old dress robes, that they were buying me new ones for Christmas. Admiring the silver sparkles against the silk dark blue sleeve fabric, I helped Lynne tie a complicated knot in her backless dress robes. In return, Lynne- who had an excellent eye for fashion- did my makeup, applying all sorts of things I didn't usually wear, from bright red lipstick to a sparkly silver eyeliner that she put a little line of over and a little curl of at the outer corner of each of my eyes, almost like a downsized Egyptian-type look. When she was done, she spun me toward the latest edition to our dorm- a talking magic mirror that Helen had received that morning from her parents. It'd taken four large screech owls to carry it!

I caught my breath when I saw my reflection. Was that girl in the mirror really _me? _The blue-and-silver robes she wore accentuated her already-pale skin, making the splash of freckles on her nose stand out. (I already had the palest skin in the school- the running joke was that I'd seen a ghost, so maybe this _was _me.) Impossibly long, dark eyelashes framed huge jade green eyes that were too big for her face. Below her petite nose, the girl's small, sweet mouth was open in an _o_, surrounded by lips that were as crimson as the ripest apple, contrasting with her milk-white skin. Her light brown hair was piled in curls on top of her head, and she was almost… fairy-like.

"You look beautiful, hon!" squealed the mirror. "I love that color on you! _So _gorgeous!"

I blushed. "Er… thanks, mirror." Then I stepped away from its reflective surface and glanced over at my dorm-mates, who were just as beautiful. Millie was wearing robes of a deep vermilion red, and her dark hair with the blond streaks was styled in a braided crown updo over and around her head. Helen stood beside her, her brown-blond hair falling in ringlets over her shoulders, dressed in robes of a bluish-green turquoise. Lynne stood a little way away from them, tying strappy gold sandals onto her feet. Her dress robes were gorgeous- the top was a complicated, backless web of gold straps, melding seamlessly into a sleek gold dancing skirt with a thick, curling ribbon of deep, rich mahogany brown at the hem, contrasting beautifully with her tan skin and feathery brown hair that she had pulled up into an elegant French twist. And then there was Polly, standing in the corner, half-hidden behind her bed-curtains. She wore robes of burnt orangey-red, her wispy brown hair styled into a simple braided bun at the nape of her neck.

Millie linked arms with Helen and went out of the dormitory door. Lynne and I linked arms and she tried to follow them, but I stopped and held my hand out to Polly. "Want to walk down with us, Polly?"

Polly came out of hiding, looking at me with large, curious blue eyes. "Sure," she said softly, linking her arm in mine.

We went down to the common room, which was a sea of different colors instead of a never-ending ocean of black. I spotted Will and Eric next to one wall, Will in robes of light blue and Eric in dark gray, talking. Lynne pulled Polly and me through the crowd, dodging around a group of third-year girls in varying shades of pink, and out of the common room.

In the entrance hall, Brooklyn and Leja were waiting for us, both in their new dress robes. Leja looked surprised to see Polly, but asked no questions, and Brooklyn just ignored the shorter girl. Instead, she focused on Lynne and me, smiling.

"You guys look gorgeous," I said to our Slytherin friends. Brooklyn's long dark hair was braided down her back in a snakelike plait, and her new dress robes were an almost _gaudy_-looking green with gold trim in old Nordic patterns along the neckline and the hems of the sleeves and skirt. On anyone else, it would've made their skin look pasty and their ensemble tacky- but Brooklyn's pale skin and dark hair made her look regal, like a queen. All she was missing was a crown. And Leja was stunning in her new fuchsia robes. The way the embroidered flowers draped over her arm made it look like there were real blossoms sewn onto the sleeve, which was a truly beautiful look. Leja's hair was pulled up into a loose bun on the top of her head, and she wore excessive amounts of makeup- shimmery lip gloss, mascara, and blush were only some of the cosmetics I could see she'd used. And, well- Leja could pull almost anything off, including makeup that would've looked caked-on on another person. She practically oozed confidence.

"Brooklyn! Aly! Leja! Lynne! Polly!" Rossalene shouted, making her way through throngs of people to get to us. I turned to face her, catching a glimpse of Millie hanging on to Nate's arm, gazing up at him with a misty-eyed look I'd never seen on my roommate. Rossalene skidded to a stop in front of us, beaming brightly. Her long, straight, shiny black hair was done up in an extravagant braided updo that made her tresses look like roses and she wore silky robes of a light lilac color. A big lavender flower with five large petals perched behind her ear, matching her robes, and when I glanced down, I could see Rossalene's favorite white dancing slippers peeking out of her floor-length dress robes.

"You look really pretty!" I said, smiling at her.

She huffed loudly. "And you- how did you get so gorgeous? It's only been an hour! You look like a fairy!"

I dipped a shallow curtsy, smiling shyly. "Lynne did my makeup!"

"And _Lynne!_" Rossalene shrieked, making a beeline for my friend. "You look _trés bon_\- so elegant!"

Lynne grinned and thanked her, then corrected, "You're pronouncing _trés bon _wrong, it's _trés bon_, not _tres buen_…"

I turned away from the mini French lesson, nearly bumping into Lyndsay as I did. The Scottish girl peered worriedly around the entrance hall, scanning clumps of boys. "Ah wonder where Eli is," she murmured anxiously.

I patted her arm, which was sheathed in a shining sleeve. "You'll be fine, Lyndsay. Did I tell you how striking you look? Eli's going to be chasing away jealous suitors all night."

Lyndsay blushed softly. "Ah wouldn't say _tha'_…"

"He will," I insisted. "I guarantee it." For she did look very pretty in robes of shimmering bronze, her hair falling free of any headband down her back in gentle light brown waves.

Just then, a voice behind us said, "Mademoiselle." It was deeper than normal, but definitely Johnny's. I turned around just in time to see him bow deeply to Lynne and ask, "If it's not too much and you don't have a partner… I was wondering if you would be so kind as to give me the pleasure of your first dance?"

I gave a little "Oh!" of shock as the girls around Lynne and Johnny cooed. Lynne blushed beet red, still managing to look as elegant as ever, and stammered, "Of- of course, I'd love that."

I turned to Lyndsay as Lynne took Johnny's offered arm. "Did _you_ know that Johnny fancied Lynne?"

Lyndsay nodded. "Ah've known since second year. It's obvious, en't it?"

I shook my head. "Apparently everyone but me thought so, too."

Then the doors to the Great Hall opened, and it was everyone _else's_ turn to give little "Oh!"s of surprise.

The Great Hall was decorated with snow-covered Christmas trees, shining ice sculptures, and tinsel galore. An ice stage stood at one end of the Hall, next to the icy dais, with a piano and other assorted instruments atop it. There was a bar-type counter along one wall, and stocked behind it was everything from butterbeers to firewhisky (adults only). Standing behind the counter was Madam Rosmerta, the old owner of the Three Broomsticks who had been very beautiful in her youth and had still managed to retain an air of elegance into her old age. The teachers all sat at the high table upon the dais, which was situated right in front of the dance floor. Closer to the doors were enough tables, each with four chairs, to fit the whole school. The only reason I wasn't surprised at the decorations was that I'd helped bedeck the walls in the shimmering silver banners and summoned the snow that covered the Christmas trees back before the snowball fight earlier that day.

We sat. Lyndsay got lost from me in the crowd, so I ended up at a table with Brooklyn, Leja and Rossalene. Looking around, I spotted Lyndsay with Eli- both looking very happy- as well as Polly with her brother and Johnny with Lynne. As it was rare to see Johnny without Matt, I instinctively looked around for the other prankster. He was pulling a chair out for Cher, who was dressed in a lacy black pair of dress robes with see-through lace sleeves.

Headmaster Fourier stood up and looked around. "Shall we dance first," he asked us, "or eat?"

The answer was nearly unanimous. "Dance!"

"All right," he replied with a small chuckle. "I'd like everyone to participate in this one, the ceremonial first dance."

Brooklyn, Rossalene, Leja and I all exchanged nervous glances. We didn't have dates to dance with. _Oh, this ought to be fun. I wonder who I'll end up dancing with? Probably some nervous first year who'll step on my toes._

"So… to the dance floor!" concluded Headmaster Fourier with a wave of his hand.

"Excellent," I groaned sarcastically.

"Someone called for a knight in shining armor?"

I turned around, then froze. "N-Nick," I stammered, laughing a little. A blush was surely making its way up into my cheeks. "We didn't call for a knight."

"No?" he said, smirking. "Oh, right. It was the look of distress upon your face that plainly called for one."

"Don't you have a date to get back to?" I retorted, standing up.

He replied instead, "My lady?" and offered me the crook of his elbow. I could tell I was going to get an earful when I got back to my friends, but I took his arm.

Nick whirled me away from my friends and into position on the dance floor. I caught Lyndsay's eye, and her face showed a range of emotions from surprise to elation before she gave me a huge thumbs-up and a matching grin.

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

Nick, who was watching me closely, cocked an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"My friends," I answered with a groan. "They're going to tease me incessantly about this. They'll think I fancy you."

He raised both eyebrows. "Don't you?"

What- _Rowena! _I nearly shoved him away. _He is an arrogant little Seeker, isn't he? Assuming I fancy him just because I accepted his offer to dance, when in fact I only accepted because I needed a dance partner?_

Because surely that's why I'd accepted his kind offer!

A group of seventh-year students climbed up onto the ice stage, took their positions at their instruments, and- at a nod from Headmaster Fourier- struck up a mournful slow song.

Nick entwined his hand in mine- a shiver ran up my arm, because he had cold hands, _only_ because he had cold hands- and started leading me through the steps. Forward, backward, side to side we danced. As the tune grew steadily faster, we revolved and spun around the room. I quite enjoyed myself, even when the song morphed into a rather jauntier and bouncier tune that was more difficult to dance to. I stayed with Nick for that second song too, and just when it was ending, someone stepped on my shoe and I felt more than heard the soft cloth of the dancing slippers tear.

Before I could tell Nick, he swept me down into a dip. When he swung me up, it struck me how very close our faces were.

It must have hit him too, because he froze. We were two people staring at each other, frozen in a dance pose in the middle of the dance floor while masses of couples waltzed around us.

I broke the silence between us by saying, "Nick," in the most vulnerable voice I'd ever heard myself speak in.

"Aly?" he whispered.

I tore my green eyes away from his blue ones, looking bashfully down towards the floor instead. I cleared my throat. "My shoe's broken."

He escorted me to a table near the dance floor's edge and helped me sit down. Even then, the spell was still hanging over us; but then one of Nick's friends- Nathan, I noticed, his arm around a slim girl with coarse dark hair- called his name and the spell was shattered.

"I may or may not be back," Nick said almost guiltily. "You know how my friends are-" and then he darted off towards them.

I fixed my torn shoe with a simple "_Reparo!_" and sat watching the dancers. The beating of my heart- too fast- made what I'd been trying to deny to myself for so long impossible to shy away from any longer.

I was in love with Nick.

Maybe not _in love_. Maybe I just fancied him a bit. But I definitely had feelings for him that were stronger than any friend's… which would make facing my friends a whole lot harder. I looked around for the handsome, arrogant Seeker who had captured my heart, but I didn't see him.

Headmaster Fourier silenced the magicians after that third song with a wave of his hand. "I don't know about all of you," he announced to the couples who were now standing listlessly on the dance floor, "but I'm _starving_… so let's eat!"

There was a loud cheer as the dancers swarmed the tables. Brooklyn, who had been dancing with Eric, and Leja, who had been dancing with a tall blonde Hufflepuff named Noah Docherty, sat down at my table. They were eerily silent- Brooklyn probably fuming from the humiliation of having to dance with her _ex-boyfriend _even though they were still okay friends, and Leja out of courtesy to Brooklyn- but as soon as a grinning Rossalene, who had been waltzing with Steven Dickens of all people, sat down across from Leja, the floodgates burst open.

Brooklyn forgot about Eric and raised one cool, calculating eyebrow at me. I wasn't fooled- one of Brooklyn's favorite pastimes was interrogating her friends about who they fancied. "So… Nick Justice, huh?"

"He's a bit cocky," Leja chimed in, "but handsome, I suppose."

"Please don't," I began, but Brooklyn grinned and Leja nudged me in the shoulder with a knowing wink.

"You two are _so_ cute together," gushed Rossalene breathlessly. She was happier than usual- practically shining- after finding a real partner to dance with- one who had asked her to dance after Nick had asked me, according to her jubilant expression. "And you're perfect for each other!"

"How?" I challenged, secretly enjoying this news.

"The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Quidditch Captains?" she squealed. "A Seeker and a Beater? Brave _and _smart? Plus, he's really good-looking and you're positively dazzling! Your kids would be practically _flawless!_"

"_Ross!_" I protested. I was sure I was blushing a fire-truck red, but if I was, no one pointed it out.

"What about you and Steven?" Leja teased.

Rossalene's rosy cheeks became even rosier, and she opened her mouth to reply, but Headmaster Fourier interrupted her. "Please," he advised us, "_tuck in!_"

And food appeared on the tables. I smiled- he'd been polite enough to include lots of vegetarian entrées- and reached quickly for a vegetable curry. Brooklyn, Leja and Rossalene grabbed for, respectively, cheese-and-leek soufflé, bangers and mash, and rumbledethumps, and they temporarily forgot about the Aly-and-Nick situation and turned to their food.

When the Christmas feast was over- many people having claimed seconds or even thirds- the music struck back up. Nick, whom I had spotted halfway through my curry, looked preoccupied trying to talk to Nathan and the coarse-haired girl—I couldn't see her face, so I couldn't tell exactly who it was—so I stayed seated. A dark-haired Slytherin sixth-year boy I didn't know asked Brooklyn to dance, and with a casual shrug and a frostiness that only Brooklyn could pull off, my best friend stepped onto the dance floor. Leja started waltzing with Eric- which was funny to watch, since she was a good six inches taller than him- and Rossalene and Steven started doing a neat foxtrot near them. I heaved myself up and went over to the counter.

Three-quarters of a butterbeer and two songs later, I was nearly dozing even though it was barely seven o'clock. _Great. I'm the Ravenclaw Prefect and I'm setting a lovely example, sitting alone with a butterbeer on Christmas night. I should've gone home for the holidays._

The shatter of crystal woke me from my sleepy haze. My head snapped up and I found myself staring at Eli Lupin on the edge of the dance floor. He was in turn staring at Lyndsay. My friend had been dancing with Noah, Leja's partner from earlier, and she stepped away from him not guiltily but defiantly.

"I walk away for _five minutes_ to get drinks," Eli nearly screeched. His face was bright red, but that was pretty normal. "And I come back to find you _cheating _on me?"

"Ah wasn't _cheatin' _on ye!" Lyndsay protested, flushing angrily.

"You don't call slow-dancing with a Hufflepuff _cheating?_"

By now everyone had frozen. First years and seventh-years alike had stopped dancing and were staring wide-eyed at the Scottish girl and the white-haired boy. The cellist's bow dangled from her hand; next to her, the flautist had lowered her silver flute and the violinists' violins were slipping off of their shoulders. The pianists' hands hovered over the piano keys. Only the oboist continued playing, sending haunting notes echoing through the Great Hall.

Even the professors were watching.

"Ah _don't_," Lyndsay defended herself, "but if ye do, ye're welcome tae _leave _me 'ere."

"I'll do that!" Eli snapped, turning and storming away. He nearly stumbled over a shard of glass- he'd dropped a mug of butterbeer, I guessed. As he passed by my table, I noticed a tear trailing its way down his scarlet face.

Professor Burton hurried onto the dance floor and repaired the crystal glass, cleaning up the spilled butterbeer as Headmaster Fourier stood up. "Please," he implored, "resume dancing."

The musicians shakily started up a bouncy tune. The dancing started again, and Lyndsay began waltzing with Noah once more, her jaw set firmly. It was only the tears in her eyes that clued me into the fact that she was just as upset as Eli.

I sat, open-mouthed, alone at a table as dancers in colorful robes whirled in front of me. _How could have that have happened? They were so perfect together- exhilarated at the beginning of the ball- I don't understand!_

Before I could think on it further, a swath of cream-colored fabric cut across my vision. Sure enough, when I looked, it was Nick. And he was _dancing- _twirling the coarse-haired girl across the dance floor. I finally caught a glimpse of her face, and knew who it was at once. _Elysa_. She was a Gryffindor- one of Lea and Lorie's crowd. She wore too much eyeliner and brilliant white robes. She blinked up at Nick, fluttered her eyelashes and threw her head back in an overly loud laugh. Nick bent his head to whisper in her ear, the ear that not only was daintily pointed but also the color of coffee, just like the rest of her skin. This caused Elysa to giggle again. She reached up and brushed her lips against his cheek, which he seemed to enjoy.

I recoiled. Not an hour earlier, Nick had been dancing with _me_. He'd been teasing _me_. He'd promised to try to return. And here he was, dancing with one of the popular crowd, not having meant a word of it.

I stood in a flurry of robes, knocking over my chair in my haste to leave, to get away from the Gryffindor boy. As I righted it, someone collapsed into the seat next to mine. _Brooklyn_.

"How was your dance?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from cracking with the betrayal I felt.

"Hm?" she asked absently, watching the dance floor. "Oh, you mean with Kian? It was fine. I met him in the common room last week, and we played a game of wizard's chess. He's all right." Then she noticed my betrayed expression. "Wait, Aly, what's wrong?"

I sat down, then pointed at Nick and recounted my tale. When I had finished, Brooklyn pulled her wand out and fingered the solid black handle darkly. "I'll get him," she muttered menacingly. "Do you think I could hit him with a Bat-Bogey Hex from here?"

"Brooklyn!" I gasped, horrified. "You can't just _jinx _him!"

"Why not? Revenge is sweet," she pointed out, tapping the tip of her wand on the table. It looked like a stack of marbles under the silvery light, ready to fall apart even though I knew it was just carved from wood.

"It's _against the rules,_" I said, emphasizing my last few words.

"Well then, I suppose you won't help me hex-" She mumbled the name, and I didn't catch it, but it peaked my interest. Brooklyn did a good job of hiding her emotions, but even I could tell this one. My best friend was jealous.

"Who?" I asked. "I may be able to help-" I faltered, realizing that I would be breaking the rules. "Well…" My loyalty to my best friend won out over my loyalty to the school, and I continued, "I guess you're right. I need to get some anger out, but you have to have a valid reason for wanting to hex- whoever it is."

She perked up, then motioned to the dance floor. "See Conor there?"

I looked. Conor, in robes of red and bronze, was dancing exuberantly with a girl I couldn't see the face of. "Yeah. Why? You want to hex the _Gryffindor Prefect?_" Worry clouded my mind.

"No," she grumbled. "Just look at who he's dancing with."

Just then, Conor spun the girl around and I caught a glimpse of her face. "Grace? He asked her to the dance. Why-" It hit me. "You want to hex _Grace Liu?_ She's a Prefect, too!"

Brooklyn flushed darkly and then confessed: "I had a crush on Conor. _Until _he asked Grace out."

"So you want revenge on her," I guessed, the pieces falling into place in my mind. "That makes sense- but she's also a Chaser on your team, wouldn't you…" I hesitated. Part of me did want revenge on Grace. After all, she'd told Jamie Mathieson I liked her brother in first year, after she'd sworn to keep my secret. It wasn't _my _fault she'd found that flyer on the faulty message board. And I'd wanted to get even with her ever since, although my desire for retribution had lessened somewhat after I'd discovered that we were both Prefects. After all, normally Prefects didn't take part in that sort of vulgar behavior.

But I wasn't normal, was I?

I pulled out my wand. "All right. On three?"

The shock on Brooklyn's face quickly morphed into delight. "One."

"Two."

"Three!"

"_Furnunculus!_" I hissed, pointing my skinny cedar wand at Grace's back, which was conveniently turned toward us at that time. Next to me, Brooklyn whispered a curse I didn't hear. A golden jet of light shot from my wand, a red one from hers, and they hit Grace squarely between her shoulder blades.

I sheathed my wand instantly with a quick motion that barely caused a rustle of my robes. Brooklyn did the same, and we joined the crowd of onlookers as Grace shrieked, a bone-chilling sound that echoed through the silver Hall.

When she stumbled around to see who had jinxed her, I stifled a giggle. Little green tentacles had sprouted all over her face, and they were waving wildly. Calm, collected, somewhat aloof Grace had transformed into shrieking, stumbling, seaweed-faced Grace.

And Conor was shocked, too. He scrambled backwards, a look of horror on his face. I shared a satisfied grin with Brooklyn. _Revenge is sweet, no matter how much I'm not supposed to seek it._

"Boys and girls!" Professor O'Cain broke through the crowd. When she caught sight of Grace, she drew in a breath. "Oh, dear. Let's get you to the hospital wing." She put an arm around Grace's shoulders and steered her through the gaping crowd.

Headmaster Fourier stood up, looking angrily from one face to another. He hated when students were hexed and had obviously thought that on Christmas no one would dare do such a thing. I bit back a concerned frown. _I hadn't thought about the fact that it's Christmas!_

"The student who just hexed the Slytherin Prefect will now step forward," Headmaster Fourier announced.

No one moved. I glanced at Brooklyn, but she was watching Headmaster Fourier with a look of detached interest.

Our Headmaster sighed. "All right. We will be undergoing a full investigation into this, but for now, please resume dancing. Prefects, Head Boy and Girl, may I speak with you?"

The nine of us moved towards the dais, where we crowded around Headmaster Fourier. Even Eli was there, although his eyes were red, like he'd been crying. Stephen too was present, and even though he was coughing madly and seemed rather ill, he looked happy. _Who knows? It's always the couples that no one suspects that turn out to be the best ones._

"Did anyone see the jinxer?" Headmaster Fourier asked in a low tone.

We all shook our heads, a pain shooting through my heart at the lie.

"I was getting a butterbeer with Niamh," Mari explained.

"I was- _cough- _dancing with- _cough cough- _Rossalene."

"I wasn't in the Hall," contributed Eli.

"I was talking to Brooklyn," I half-lied. "All I saw was two jets of light."

"I was dancing," Will said evasively.

Conor, still pretty shaken up from his dance partner sprouting tentacles, nudged him with his shoulder. "With who, mate?"

Will shrugged. "No one."

"It was Lorie," Mari informed us.

Both Will and Lorie turned as scarlet as Eli, but before either could say anything, Headmaster Fourier waved his hand. "Let's not tease each other about dance partners- and I didn't need to know _why _you didn't see the person who hexed the delightful Miss Liu, only that you didn't. Go back to enjoying yourselves," he ordered, "but keep an eye out for wands being drawn."

We nodded. Austin and the Head Girl, Kit Causey, swept onto the dance floor together. Steven went off in search of Rossalene. Lorie and Will followed in Austin and Kit's footsteps, somewhat less embarrassed, while Mari met up with Niamh and relieved her of one of the two butterbeers her friend was carrying. Conor spotted Nate with Millie and made a beeline for them. This left me and Eli.

I scanned the room for Brooklyn; not finding her, I turned to Eli. "Do you see-" My breath caught in my throat. Eli wasn't there. In his place was a boy with tawny hair, very pale skin, and freckles. I caught a glimpse of Eli's blue eyes before they turned greenish-brown.

"_Eli?_"

He raised his arms. "Do you think Lyndsay will recognize me?"

I gasped, the realization hitting me like a thunderbolt. "You're going back in for one last dance!"

He winced. "Is it that bad of an idea?"

"No!" I assured him. "It's rather sweet."

"In that case," he persisted, "do you think she'll recognize me like this?"

I looked him over. His nose was longer and his lips were thinner; his hair, skin and eye colors had changed; but he still wore robes of light gray and gold.

"Your robes are the same," I said, pulling out my wand. "I can fix that, if you like."

"Please do," he implored me, fixing those greenish-brown eyes on me. "I feel horrible for leaving her and then yelling at her. She had every right to dance with someone else while she waited for me.

I smiled at him. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Lyndsay really likes you. She was _thrilled _when you asked her." Then I pointed my wand at the sleeve of his robes and muttered, "_Colovaria._" The light gray fabric shimmered and turned a muted greenish-yellow. It wasn't the prettiest color, and Eli blanched- which I didn't think was possible, considering that his skin at the moment was nearly as pale as mine- when he saw it. "Maybe… darker?"

"Oh, sure." I tapped his sleeve and murmured the incantation again, and his robes turned a dark forest green. The trim was still gold, so I performed the Color-Changing Charm a third time to turn it silver. When I was finished, he looked _nothing _like Eli Lupin.

Eli grinned when he caught sight of his reflection in one of the silvery mirrored tabletops. "Thanks, Aly. I don't know how I can repay you-"

I waved him off. "Go. Have fun. Make Lyndsay happy."

His grin grew wider and he disappeared into the dancing crowd. In a moment, I spotted him bowing to Lyndsay, and watched as she eagerly took his hand. Even as someone else, Eli was utterly charming.

I'd meant to watch them further, but just then a pair of dancers swept in front of me, cutting off my view. It was Nick and Elysa, the latter of whom was chattering on flirtatiously. A pang of jealousy struck my heart, and I turned away- just as a blood-curdling scream echoed throughout the Hall. And I knew the voice.

_Rossalene._

"Ross!" I shouted, spinning around and pushing through dancers to reach her. "Excuse me, Prefect business, coming through, excuse me, Prefect-"

I ducked around Matt and Cher and found myself on the edge of a circle staring at Rossalene, in the center. Her hair had fallen out of her updo, and streamed in a shiny, silky black waterfall down her back. She knelt over Steven, who was lying on the cold floor, being very still. A sensation like cold water trickled down my back. _Is he dead?_

"He just- _fell!_" Rossalene wailed, catching sight of me. "Is he-"

I ran over to her before she could finish and lifted Steven's arm. A pulse beat on the inside of his wrist- slow, but steady. I let out a sigh of relief. "He's just fainted. That's all."

The teachers broke through the thick crowd. "What happened here?" asked Professor Zeller, the Arithmancy teacher.

"Not another hex!" cried Professor Brocklehurst. "Is someone determined to take out the prefects?"

That thought had also just occurred to me, but I dismissed it and shook my head as I turned to face them, spinning on my heels while I crouched on the floor. "I don't think he's been hexed," I informed them. "He's been sick; I think he just fainted. Here, I can wake him up easily." I turned back to Steven, drew my wand, and pointed it at his forehead. With a confident ring in my voice, I said, "_Ennervate_."

…and nothing happened.

"_Ennervate_," I said more firmly. "_Ennervate!_" I looked up at the teachers. "Why isn't it working?"

Professor Longbottom said something quietly to Headmaster Fourier. The latter nodded. "The ball is over," he announced. "Please return to your common rooms."

I made as if to leave with the crowd, but Headmaster Fourier shook his head. "Not you, Miss Salinger." Then he shouted, "I'd like to see the Prefects, Head Boy and Girl, the students who researched for Professor Longbottom at the end of October, and Miss Chung to stay. _We need to talk_."

**Worth the wait?**


	11. Chapter 11: Explanation

Headmaster Fourier waved his wand. Like that, the Hall was back to normal- no silver, just normal House colors and four House tables. The teachers sat at their normal table- except Professor Gedding, who had left to bring Steven to the hospital wing- while the rest of us crowded the front parts of the House tables. Mari and Rossalene were all alone at the Hufflepuff table. Will, Lynne and I inhabited the Ravenclaw table while next to us Austin and Eli sat on the opposite side of the table from Brooklyn and Leja. On the Puffs' other side Conor, Lorie, Kit and Lyndsay. We were quiet- somber, even.

"I think you all know of the plague?" Headmaster Fourier started off by asking.

Kit, a tall, broad-shouldered girl with short black hair, stood up- no, _shot _up. I knew Kit a little, since she was one of Polly's friends, but not well. "What do you mean, a _plague?_" she demanded.

Headmaster Fourier sighed a little, then proceeded to explain about the Plant Plague that was probably just the plague now that it wasn't only attacking plants. When he had finished, Kit folded her arms.

"We didn't know about this _why?_" she asked in a voice that was probably supposed to be calm but was just a mix of scared and angry.

"We didn't want widespread panic," Headmaster Fourier told her evenly. "Especially since we weren't sure it would spread to humans. Now that Mr. Dickens is showing all of the symptoms we saw in the plants, we must assume that it has. We must now recall all students to Hogwarts. We can't risk the infection being spread to anywhere outside of Hogwarts. We _must _keep it contained."

"What about the Muggles?" asked Lorie softly at the same time Conor burst out, "But there's a cure, _right?_"

Headmaster Fourier first dipped his head to Lorie. "The disease will not spread to any organisms that have not been touched by magic, in answer to your question, Miss Braithnoch. Unless a curse has been performed on said Muggle, all of them will be safe." Then he nodded to Conor. "And… I'm afraid not, Mr. Mathieson. Unfortunately, a cure has not yet been discovered. But we will be working our hardest to find one, I quite assure you."

"So," Conor said, standing up, "let me get this straight." He started pacing crossly, ticking off his points on his fingers. "This plague thing makes plants and animals and people sick, then puts them in a sleeplike coma from which they _never wake up_\- and this disease is _rampant _at Hogwarts?"

"I believe you understand all of the points, yes," said Headmaster Fourier pleasantly.

Conor threw up his hands. "Unbelievable!"

"If it's difficult to accept," Austin said to him, "maybe-"

Lyndsay cut him off by asking, "So Hogwarts is a quarantine zone? Ah'm stuck- _we're _all stuck 'ere until ye find a cure?"

"Indeed," replied Headmaster Fourier. "But business shall go on as usual. Seventh-years will take their N.E.W.T.s and fifth-years their O.W.L.s, although I'm afraid that the normal examiners will not be allowed to test them- we'll have to do it ourselves. Exams will still go on, as will classes and extracurricular activities. However, all further Hogsmeade trips will be banned, _as will owl post_."

This last one hit some of the people around me like a thunderbolt. "_What?_" five of them cried at the same time.

Headmaster Fourier nodded, looking grave. "Owls have been exposed to magic. By sending letters, we may very well send death by mail."

I didn't write to people often, but some of my friends did, and Headmaster Fourier was saying we'd be _completely _cut off from the rest of the world! How would I let my parents know I was alright?

"I know of a few school owls who have actually never been exposed to magic," our Headmaster went on, brushing a lock of straight dark hair out of his eyes. "I will send a letter to the _Daily Prophet _and the _Quibbler_ about our… situation. They will spread the word that all students must return immediately to school and that no owls shall furthermore be allowed onto the property. Our teachers will be working to find a cure when they have a free period." His piercing blue eyes drilled into us. "I would like _you‑_ the student leaders, the ones who are most talented, the ones who understand the most- to help them."

"I'm in," I said immediately, before anyone else could even open their mouths. When everyone turned to look at me- not in confusion or fear, but in agreement- I felt the need to explain. "Too many students died last year. I'm not letting some bloody illness ruin _another_ year for me."

"Well said!" barked Austin pompously, and my classmates and teachers applauded my words with a quick few claps. One by one, my fellow students nodded their heads, pitching in to the cause.

"Excellent," Headmaster Fourier said, standing up. "I must send those letters immediately if I want them to appear in tomorrow's Holiday editions of those papers. Prefects, I expect you to explain to your Houses why we are now, in the words of Miss Winters, a _quarantine zone_." He bowed, adding, "Also, if there are any students whom you believe would be beneficial to the cause of finding a cure, do not hesitate to go into more detail on the plague when you speak to them." Then he left, leaving us to do the same.

I trudged back to Ravenclaw Tower, a little ahead of Lynne and Will, who were talking in low, somber voices. The Christmas holiday had started out great and turned into a complete fiasco by the end. Now we were quarantined at Hogwarts- _and _I was going to be forced to explain exactly _why _to my house. _Can this get any worse?_

***coughs***

***cues announcer voice***

**Do YOU want your favorite character to appear more in Fifth Year?**

**Vote on my poll, and he/she could do JUST THAT!**

**(All right, I'm done. Hope you enjoyed it.)**


	12. Chapter 12: Ravenclaw versus Slytherin

Over the next few days, droves of students returned to Hogwarts. Over the next few weeks, two more students came down with the plague and slipped into comas- a Slytherin fourth-year and a Ravenclaw second-year, the very boy who'd tried out for Beater back in early October (the skinny one who'd had excellent aim). Ravenclaws cried for him the day he Went Comatose, and I stayed up half the night comforting his fourth-year sister, who was bawling her eyes out.

Going Comatose was all anyone ever talked about in those days. If someone came down with a cold, within the hour the nicer people would be worrying over them and the less compassionate would be placing bets on when they would Go Comatose. For it was true- we'd figured out that the symptoms of a particularly bad cold were actually the symptoms of the plague and soon the afflicted would Go Comatose. All three victims at the time had been sniffling, sneezing, and coughing their way through the weeks before their comas.

Not knowing what was happening in the world hurt us all. We got no _Daily Prophet _or _Quibbler_. We received no letters. We were completely cut off and even the teachers hated it. Punishment for sending an owl was at least a week of detention, and spells were placed around the Owlery to ward off those few students who didn't care about detention. We couldn't risk spreading the disease.

But otherwise life went on as normal. Leja blew up her cauldron during one memorable Potions class, knocking over a few other people's cauldrons and spilling her Invigoration Draught all over the floor. As a result, she had to use a cauldron that was probably as old as Professor Longbottom and that was melting through in places. Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology's lessons often felt cobbled together, due to many of the plants and creatures _intended _for the lesson Going Comatose at the last minute. Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies were pretty much the same as they always were. In Transfiguration, Shawnee accidentally Transfigured a sneezing Ella Nguyen into a table and it took half the lesson to Transfigure her back because Professor Descoteaux couldn't figure out the proper counter-curse.

That day- January 27th- Lyndsay caught up with me after a Herbology class full of sluggish Chinese Chomping Cabbages that wouldn't bite my hand even if I shoved my fingers in front of it and waved them back and forth. (I didn't try it, but some idiots- _cough Nick cough- _did.) She nudged me, looking happier than I'd seen her since the ball. "Guess what?"

I immediately went on my guard. Lyndsay had no idea that Eli had been the tawny-haired boy at the ball- he'd told her his name was Lyall, his great-grandfather's name. But Lyndsay didn't look betrayed or hurt- she looked _delighted. _"What?"

"Ye know tha' Tommy Wood Went Comatose a week ago, righ'?" she pestered me.

I nodded. Juliet Livesey had been positively miserable ever since, moping around and spending every spare moment of time in the hospital wing- which at that time held 5 comatose patients (Steven, the Slytherin girl, the second-year boy, Tommy, and Seamus Trotter, the last of whom Brooklyn was absolutely elated about).

"Well," Lyndsay went on, "Nick just asked me tae sub in as Beater! En't it great? Ah'll be playin' against ye for the fourth match!"

"Great," I said absentmindedly. My mind wasn't on the fourth match, but the third- Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, scheduled for February 11th. Seamus had been replaced by Marcus Rice, Leja's incredibly annoying little third-year brother. He was short and stocky, and didn't have very good aim, but he could swing a bat pretty powerfully. He'd smashed a hole in the Quidditch stands with his first hit during the Slytherins' practice- or so Brooklyn told me- and I was slightly worried. If someone small and wiry like Lynne or Lanie got a direct hit from Marcus, it could knock them off their broom and maybe even seriously injure them.

"Ah can't wait," Lyndsay enthused. "Ah'll beat the Ravenclaw team. Ooh, can ye beat Slytherin so ah can beat the _undefeated _Ravenclaw team?"

"I'm not losing to Nick." The arrogant Captain and I hadn't spoken since Christmas. Every time I saw him hurrying toward me, I went the other way. The jealousy and hurt I'd felt at the ball rose in my throat every time I saw him or Elysa.

"Suit yerself," Lyndsay said cheerily, heading off in the direction of Potions through the snow.

"Aly!"

I recognized the voice and instead of turning around, I sped up. It was Nick.

"Aly," he repeated, skidding to a stop beside me and sending a flurry of snow up from the ground. "Hey, I-"

"I don't want to be late for Charms," I muttered, taking a hard left into the castle.

He stayed by my side, keeping pace with me. "'Course not. I just want to say-"

"I don't want to listen." I ascended a flight of stairs and turned into a long corridor, going _away _from the Potions classroom (where he was supposed to be going), but he followed me.

"Listen, Aly, I know-"

I reached the Charms classroom, tuning him out, and stepped inside. He tried to come after me, still talking, but Professor Brocklehurst accosted him at the door. "Say, Mr. Justice, shouldn't you be in Potions? Hm? Yes, I thought so. I think you'd best go there, as Professor Burton doesn't react well to latecomers. Mm-hmm. Good-bye!" And she closed the door in his face.

I loved Professor Brocklehurst.

The next time I saw Nick was as I walked onto the Quidditch field. It was snowing lightly, but through the light snowfall I could see him sitting beside the commentator's box, next to Alex and Ella- the latter of whom seemed perfectly fine (her cold had cleared up, for it had to be just that, a cold). Nick caught my eye, held up his Omnioculars, and gave me a thumbs-up as Lyndsay boomed, "Salinger- Kelling- Haven- Turnip- Thresher- MacDougal- and- _Greene!_" in the background.

I ignored him, turning away.

Austin strode over to me, followed by Brooklyn, Grace, Anise, Zola, Marcus, and Brandon. "Wood- Vawdrey- Liu- Cheverell- Greene- Rice- and- _Trotter!_" Lyndsay shouted as I grinned at Brooklyn. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers at me, and I could see the coat of dry grease across her palms. _She's been using the Mini Broomstick Servicing Kit, then. Cool._

"Captains, shake hands!" ordered Sir Sutherland. I shook Austin's huge mitt of a hand firmly, and only once.

"Mount your brooms," Sir Sutherland continued. "Start on my whistle. One, two-"

_Tweet!_

I rose up into the air, hefting my heavy bat with one hand. Lynne took possession of the Quaffle and raced down the field.

When the game had finished- Lanie making a miracle catch right out from under Brandon Trotter's nose and winning the game for us- we went back to the common room, slapping one another on the back. Instead of going down to lunch, some sixth-years went down to the kitchens and came back with enough food to feed all of Rowena's Borough. We had a mini-party in the common room, and we pooled our dwindling supply of sweets to make a Community Chocolate Collection that we put on the biggest crystal table.

"I don't know what I'd do without chocolate," Lynne laughed.

"We should ration it," agreed Shawnee with a small smile.

Lanie opened her mouth to say something- and then sneezed.

We all froze, staring at the small, skinny brunette. Her turquoise eyes darted from Shawnee to Lynne to me before she said, "I- I think I'm fine."

"Maybe it's just a cold," said Shawnee hurriedly, rushing her words like she couldn't get them out fast enough.

"I'm sure it's just a cold," Lynne assured Lanie, nodding her agreement.

"Like Ella," I added.

Lanie nodded and we dropped the conversation.

That night, after drawing the bedcurtains around my area, I whispered, "_Lumos_." I grabbed one of the books stacked on my bedside table- one of the ones my parents had sent me. It was _The Decline of Pagan Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot, and I started to read. I was on Chapter Three, which covered the fascinating subject of alchemy and its links to pagan magic, when I heard footsteps.

"_Nox_," I hissed, plunging my space into darkness. Pulling aside the bedcurtains just enough to see through them, I recognized the slim shape of Lanie following someone out of the dorm. I threw aside the covers and hurried after tham.

I tiptoed into the nearly-empty common room and froze, hidden behind the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. Lanie's hair and Shawnee's head of dark curls were visible over the backs of chairs near the fire pit. I crept up behind them and huddled next to the back of Shawnee's armchair, listening.

"I don't want to have the plague," Lanie was saying with a gulp. "There's no _cure, _Shawnee. If this cold isn't just a cold, I'll probably _die_."

"I know."

"I want to be an inventor. I don't want to die before I even take my O.W.L.s."

"I know."

"Hey," Lanie said suddenly, after a pause, "if I _do_ die, you've got to make it out of here, okay? For me and- and for _everyone _who's going to end up dead."

Shawnee breathed a deep sigh. "I will. And so will _you_."

"Don't try to make me feel better, Shawnee," said Lanie heavily, in a weary voice. "But promise me something."

"What?"

"If I _do_ die- if I Go Comatose and my heart stops beating and they can't revive me- I want you and Aly to find a bloody cure." (I nearly gasped aloud at this. I'd never heard Lanie swear before.) "Invent it if you have to. If there are two minds in the world who can figure it out, it's you and Aly."

My shoulders drooped. Everyone expected me to be the heroine, just because I was one of the brightest witches in the year- okay, maybe of all of Hogwarts- and because I'd defeated Headmaster Damien, masterminding the plan that had beaten him in the end of the year before. Couldn't I just be _normal _for one year? Couldn't I just be _Aly_, or even _Alyssa_, not Aly-the-savior? Why was it always _me?_

Before I could hear any more, I scurried back to the door in the alcove and opened it. As I went back up the stairs, I heard Lanie's faint voice ask, "Did you hear something?"

But I was in bed when they came in, completely silent.

Out the window next to my bed, before I pulled the dark blue curtains shut, I spotted a streak of silver flash across the sky. _A shooting star! _(Or, as Professor Turner would've said, a meteor. But I was superstitious, and I needed a wish.)

When I pulled my curtains shut, I crossed my hands over my stomach and closed my eyes. Then I made a wish on that shooting tar.

_Please don't let Lanie die._

**Awh. So, before I'm done, I have some reviews to respond to as well as thank-yous to give out.**

**Yes, I know that Lyndsay's accent can be slightly odd, since it's Scottish and they all live in Scotland or the surrounding area. The reason Lyndsay's accent is written so weirdly is because it's a VERY thick accent. Americans wouldn't be able to understand her at all, and even her fellow Hogwarts students agree that it's a little pronounced.**

**A quick thank-you to everyone who's reviewed so far, even if it was a critical review. A big shout-out to "Lanie", who has been promoting my story in every way she possibly can. Thanks to QueenOfDesu and RavenRoset for pointing out some things that need to be changed, and a huge shout-out to the girl whom Lyndsay is based off of for all of her ideas and editorial skills. **

**Also, a mammoth-sized THANK YOU to everyone who's voted on my poll. Who to include, who to not include as much- this has been a huge trouble for me. So thanks again!**

**All right, I'm done now. Review, please!**


	13. Chapter 13: Comatose- and a Cure?

**This is for Griffin and Lanie. I may/may not be posting another chapter today, but have fun reading this one!**

Six more people had Gone Comatose since the Quidditch match, and it had only been two weeks. That brought the grand total to fourteen- five before January 27th, three more before the match, and six after. This six included (horrifyingly) Niamh Trevett, Zola Greene, and Libby Vawdrey. Brooklyn and Will were distraught, as was Mari. The three of them wholeheartedly threw themselves into looking for a cure, causing me to beat Will in two Potions essays and a Charms quiz. Normally we got the same grades, and getting better grades than him should have brought me a little victorious delight. But all I felt was a heavy sadness, as I visited the hospital wing and saw the innocent face of little Zola, framed by her wispy blond hair. Libby too was lying still, her dark red hair pillowing around her face. Niamh, Steven, Tommy, Seamus. The eight others- five girls, three boys. All of them were stuck in a dreamlike sleep, their chests rising and falling at an unbelievably slow pace. _That _was why I felt no joy in beating Will.

It was the day before the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match- March 10th. I was to play Lyndsay, Melissa, Lorie, Lea, Conor, Nate- and _Nick._ I still hadn't talked to the Gryffindor Captain, other to tell him to go away, and I was _going _to beat him no matter what.

I expected him to feel the same- which is why I was surprised to find, after dinner Friday night, that the Quidditch field was open for practice. It was nearly dark, but we could easily light our wands or something of the sort. I called over some first years and pressed a few Knuts into each of their hands, asking them to find Lanie Kelling, Shawnee Haven, Lynne Turnip, Millie Thresher, Helen MacDougal, and Will Greene, and send them to the Quidditch field for an impromptu practice. They ran off, Dellie Thresher flashing me a big smile as she disappeared to find her sister. I smiled a little as I went down to the Quidditch pitch, not even bothering to change into my gear when I arrived. I lugged the Quaffle-Bludgers-Snitch case out onto the field and lit a bunch of emergency-practice torches around the stadium, casting a bright yellow glow over the field.

When my team arrived, carrying brooms, I ordered, "Split up. No Seekers or Keepers today. Lynne, Helen, you're Team One Chasers. Millie, Lanie, you're Team Two Chasers." The new pairs rubbed their palms together and grinned. I turned my attention to Shawnee and Will. Handing Shawnee my Beater's bat, I said, "Will, you're Team Two's Beater. Shawnee, you're Team One's. We're going to play a mini-game, and whichever team gets to one hundred points first- so, ten goals- will, I don't know, get to learn a special new maneuver I cooked up last night."

"You got it, Aly," Helen said with a salute. I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not, but I shook it off.

"One- two- _go!_" I released the two Bludgers into the air, then threw the Quaffle to Lynne, who caught it. Then she raced down the field.

The score was seventy-ninety, with Team One winning, when I called a time-out.

"I'm releasing the Snitch," I announced. "Any player from Team One can catch it. If Team Two gets to ninety points, _they _can catch it, too. And I'm changing up the rules. It's one hundred and _fifty _points that you need to reach. The Snitch will be worth fifty points."

Before anyone could say anything, I waved my hand, dismissing them back into the air. Almost immediately, Shawnee jostled Lanie- accidentally, of course, but enough to earn a coughing Lanie a penalty. She scored, and right after that Millie got past Helen and Lynne, scoring again. It was ninety-ninety, and while the Chasers battled for control of the Quaffle, the Snitch appeared right by Lanie's ear. She spotted it, and with a smile she reached for it.

"_No!_" Helen yelled, diving for the golden ball.

Lanie's fingers had just brushed one of the sharp, fluttering wings of her prey when a peaceful yet shocked expression crossed her face and she collapsed, falling from her broom, plummeting to the ground from twenty-five feet up.

I couldn't catch her in time. Lanie's motionless body hit the ground, her neck snapping back. Her left arm took the brunt of the fall, and I could see as I got closer that it was bent at an odd angle.

I sprinted over; kneeling, I grabbed the hand of her right arm and felt the vein in her inner wrist for a pulse. It throbbed beneath my fingers, blood flowing at a slow but steady pace. I sighed in relief.

_She's alive._

"Has she-"

I looked up at Shawnee and the rest of the team, their faces ashen. Lynne was the one who'd spoken.

"She's not dead," I informed them to their collective relief, looking down at Lanie. "But I think her arm is broken."

"And… has she Gone Comatose?" Millie voiced.

I looked up at my team again, and solemnly nodded once.

They were all frozen in shock until Helen spluttered, "B-but- _we have the match tomorrow! _She can't Go Comatose _now!_"

"Well, she _has_," Shawnee snapped, angrier than I'd ever seen her. It made sense- Lanie and Shawnee were like sisters. "And we can't do anything about it. Or is all you care about winning the bloody _game?_"

"_Shawnee!_" I admonished. "Don't scold your teammates, leave that to me. You and Will bring Lanie up to the hospital wing. Millie, go tell Headmaster Fourier that Lanie's Gone Comatose. Lynne, go tell the Ravenclaws. Helen- _you _stay with me."

My team dispersed. Helen helped me pack up the Quaffle, Bludgers and Snitch in silence. It started to rain- _rain_, not snow, for the first time in months- and we bundled the broomsticks in the drizzle, lugging them up to the castle while sloshing through a torrent of rain and mud.

I cleaned the mud and water off of myself with a quick "_Tergeo!_" when I stepped inside the castle. Helen followed my example and we cleansed the brooms together. As we started walking back up to Ravenclaw Tower, I said, "Helen- you understand why you can't just say that type of thing, right?"

She nodded. "_Still_, though- now we're Seekerless for tomorrow's match!"

I shook my head. "We can't play. Gryffindor still hasn't played Hufflepuff. After we drop these off, I'm going to go find Professor Brocklehurst. She's Head of Ravenclaw House- she can organize the whole thing with Professor Gedding and Professor Longbottom."

And I did. When we reached the spiral staircase, Helen offered to carry up the brooms alone. I gratefully took her up on her gracious offer, and while she dragged the bundle of brooms upstairs one step at a time, I went in search of Professor Brocklehurst. She was very kindly and understanding and said she'd speak to Professor Gedding about the matter.

The next morning, I was awakened by Millie shaking me. "Aly! Aly? You awake?"

I groaned. It felt like I'd only slept for a few minutes. Rubbing the last cobwebs of sleep from my eyes, I sat up. "Yeah, I'm awake. I'm awake."

"Brooklyn's outside Ravenclaw Tower," Millie told me. "She says she needs to talk to you."

This chased any thoughts of going back to sleep from my mind. "Okay. Thanks, Millie."

I dressed in my uniform, leaving the heavy dark robes in my dorm. Brooklyn was waiting patiently outside on the spiral staircase.

"Hey," she said when she saw me. "Took you long enough."

"I was asleep," I defended myself. "What's up?"

"Follow me," she said, seizing my wrist and hurrying down the steps. "I'll explain on the way."

When we were comfortably walking towards the Great Hall through a corridor lined with paintings of old wizards and witches, I nudged her. "So… explanation?"

"Professor Burton found a book in the Restricted Section of the library," Brooklyn divulged quickly. "It's pretty old. He reckons it might have a cure. And honestly, I'm willing to do whatever to get Libs back."

"A book of old potions?" I guessed.

She nodded. "We'll grab a quick breakfast- oh, you don't mind missing the Quidditch match, right?"

I shrugged. "Lynne'll fill me in if anything interesting happens. So, not really."

In the Great Hall, I grabbed a piece of buttered toast from the Hufflepuff table (Rossalene waved and I gave Kayla a big thumbs-up) before Brooklyn and I cut through the tables to get to the staircases on the other side.

"Aly!" I heard Nick shout as I exited, pretending I'd never heard him.

Brooklyn snorted as we climbed down a flight of stairs. "I've never seen you hold such a grudge before," she noted, taking a bite of her breakfast-potatoes-on-toast.

"I'm just focused on my schoolwork," was the excuse I gave after I swallowed my second bite of toast.

She snorted again, chewing and swallowing. "Yeah… right."

"So how old is this book?" I asked, changing the subject abruptly.

She smirked, knowing exactly what I was doing. "You'll see."

When I entered the Potions classroom, I was surprised to see not only Professor Burton but Will, too. The two were flipping through a giant, _ancient _brown leather-bound tome on Professor Burton's desk. The book was probably as old as Hogwarts itself, written in long, flowing script and probably hand-illustrated. The pages were crumbling and yellow with age, and the ink was faded. The book's cover was worn and used, and I had never seen a more beautiful book.

"Miss Vawdrey, Miss Salinger," Professor Burton said by way of greeting. "Would you be so kind as to help us read this? I'm afraid that neither Mr. Greene nor I are able to decipher the script."

"My grandmother writes in handwriting that's horribly difficult to read," I volunteered. "Let me see."

They carefully transferred the heavy book into my waiting hands, and I set it down on a nearby students' desk, pushing a cauldron aside to make room. Sitting, I read the title of the first potion. "Cure for Missing Limbs."

"There's such a thing?" Brooklyn asked at the same time that Will said, "No, that isn't what we want." I looked at him, and he shrugged. "Check the third potion- we thought the title had the word _plague _in it."

I flipped a few pages, trying to be very gentle. The title of the third potion was _Cure for Pneumonia. _"Cure for _Pneumonia_," I corrected him, trying not to laugh.

Brooklyn sighed, leaning on the desk that I had set up the book on. "I bet there isn't even a cure and we're just wasting our time."

As she said this, she leaned too heavily on the desk. We watched in horror as the desk tumbled over, trapping the tome beneath it. I heard something _rrrrip._

"_Miss Vawdrey!_" Professor Burton gasped in a horrified voice. Before anyone else could, I bewitched the desk to fly to the other side of the room (where it clattered to the floor), and slid the tome out from where it had landed. The spine had ripped open, revealing a little pocket of space between the leather cover and the binding glue that held the pages together. It looked like something had been stashed in the pocket, but there was nothing there.

"Look," Will said. He scooped something off of the floor. If was a bundle of papers as old and yellowed as the great volume itself. Some had crumbled completely when they fell from the book, but a quick _"Reparo!_" fixed that.

Will handed the papers to me. With a quick glance over the different but no less indecipherable script of the first letter, I began to read.


	14. Chapter 14: Letters

_Dear Rowena:_

_I have not written in a while, and I am sorry for that. My poor Agnes has been ill, and I write to you of that very subject._

_Rowena, the Ministry has never seen an illness quite like that of Agnes. She appeared to simply have a bad cold for some three weeks, and then just yesterday she fell into a sleep from which she has not awakened. Dear Agnes lives, but only just, and the Ministry wishes to take her away for testing. They have given me a deadline of one week to awaken her- but I fear it is not a sleep but a coma from which an earthly being cannot awaken her._

_Rowena, you are the cleverest witch I have ever encountered. Would you be so kind as to invent an antidote for sweet Agnes so that I will not lose my little flower to the Ministry? I will reward you- I will design any part of that school you are thinking of creating for no fee other than the antidote. Please, Rowena, I cannot lose my delicate blossom, and if any witch could solve this problem it is you._

_Love from _**_Etheldreda_**

* * *

_Dearest Etheldreda:_

_I would be delighted to create an antidote for Agnes. A coma, you say? I shall brew something instantly- a potion should do the trick. I will travel down to your home in two days- this owl shall probably arrive the day before I do. As you live in a town of Muggles, I cannot very well Apparate into your street! I shall Apparate into the surrounding marshes and walk the remainder of the way._

_As for the payment, I require none. I quite like your little Agnes- at least, I did when I visited four years ago, when she was naught but a babe- and it would be a true blow to my heart as well as yours if she was taken away for experimentation. It would almost be as if my own baby Helena (whom I shall leave with the nursemaid) was taken by the Ministry! Although I would like you to design a hidden room for my school- a room of hidden things that shall only appear when a person has desperate need of it, a room that will change shape depending on what the user needs, a room that shall be the perfect place to hide things and to hide. If any designer can figure out a way to create such a room, it is you, Etheldreda. I am so confident in your abilities that I have even decided on a name. The Room of Requirement shall be kept a secret from even Godric, Helga, and Salazar. (To tell you the truth, dear, I do not trust Salazar very much. He has been acting rather secretive lately, and I am too curious about what he may be up to that I have told this secret of mine to none but you. Even Helga and Godric do not know of my suspicions about Sir Slytherin, for they trust him very much and would be horrified if I chose to reveal them.) _

_For now, keep Agnes warm and dry. Do not bother feeding her; if it is a coma, she will not swallow, but she will not need nourishment anyway. Leave it all to me. You shall have your sweet blossom back in a few days' time._

_Love from _**_Rowena_**

* * *

_Dear Rowena, _

_I write to you of Agnes's condition. She is hungry now and talks constantly. Apparently she went through very vivid and lifelike dreams during her coma, and her new favorite pastime is explaining them in great detail, to who else but me._

_I cannot thank you enough for saving her. Your cure was remarkable! Transfiguring her into an inanimate object after feeding her that cure-all potion you brewed chased the disease right away! Then you noticed that I was sneezy- I cannot believe you figured out that I too had the illness- and Transfigured me into a table to chase _my_ bout of the sickness away! I would not be awake to take care of dear Agnes if you had not deduced my illness as well._

_Your idea to hide the cure in your new school was just as clever. I agree with your explanation that it should not be publicized and only known about if this illness crops up again. You asked for suggestions while you were staying with me, and I have the perfect one. Why do you not simply hide it in the room I designed for you- that Required Room or whatever you wish to call it? It shall be nearly impossible to find that way, for I am as confident in my abilities as you are!_

_One last request, Rowena. I wish for you to hide the letters I send you. I am sure that the Ministry will begin reading my mail soon, and so these letters we have sent discussing Agnes's illness and the cure must be hidden if we do not want your cure-all to be known worldwide. After all, soon people would use it for everything and the world's population would grow until we can no longer fit on Earth._

_I must go- Agnes is calling for more soup, bless her little heart. A thousand thanks for saving my little flower._

_Love from _**_Etheldreda_**

* * *

**I said I would post another, and I meant it. It's a short chapter, but I hope it answered some of your questions. Feel free to leave any unanswered ones in a review or PM me! ~atrfla**


	15. Chapter 15: Green Potions

"Transfiguration!" Will said in an awed whisper. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"The sickness must not be able to live long on inanimate objects," Brooklyn guessed.

Professor Burton grasped our hands tightly in his and shook them wildly. "Miss Salinger- Miss Vawdrey- Mr. Greene- you have discovered a cache of information that is simply priceless-" He seized the letters from my hand. "I must go tell the Headmaster straightaway!" Then he dashed from the room.

My mind was spinning, reeling from this new information. "Transfiguration," I repeated slowly, and a light dawned in my brain. "Shawnee accidentally Transfigured Ella into a table in February-"

"Oh yeah," Brooklyn said, "I heard about that. Wish I'd been there, it was probably a barrel of laughs-"

"-and Ella had been sneezing and coughing, too!" I continued, leaping up and beginning to pace back and forth. "If you have the plague but you haven't Gone Comatose, Transfiguration on its own is enough to drive the disease from your body- but if you _have _Gone Comatose, I bet it isn't enough- you need to be fed this mystery potion _and _be Transfigured- _oh, it all makes so much sense!_"

Will nodded, grinning. "We need to find this potion immediately." He was acting like an excited little kid. "It'll be so-" And he sneezed.

Brooklyn reached for her wand- intending to Transfigure him into something, no doubt- but I reached out and pushed her wand away. "No. We haven't done human Transfiguration yet. Plus, it might just be a cold."

"We have to go explain this to the teachers," Will said eagerly, wiping his nose on a handkerchief. "And the students!"

"Professor Burton and Headmaster Fourier can do that," I told him. "Plus, they might not want any of the students to know. We don't know. Let's leave it to them."

"Well," Brooklyn said, "this is all well and good, but I'm going to be bored to death if we talk any more about this. _I'm _going to the Quidditch match. Coming, Aly?"

"No," I answered, lifting the great tome from the desk. "I think I'll stay here and read this. Oh, and I have to fix it. But I mainly want to read it." I smiled eagerly at her. "Can you imagine how many useful potions could be in here, undiscovered for centuries? I would dearly love to brew some."

"You are _such_ a Ravenclaw," Brooklyn muttered.

"That's not an insult," I sang happily.

"I wonder if Professor Burton would let us try our hand at brewing some of these," Will said admiringly, flipping a page beside me and tilting his head, clearly attempting to read the script.

Brooklyn swept from the room, and Professor Burton returned a short while later, no doubt looking for something. He picked a letter up off of the floor, obviously having dropped it in his mad dash from the room. He seemed delighted when we asked him if we could possibly try out some of the potions.

"The Ravenclaw Prefects, thirsting for knowledge!" he cried, looking the most excited I'd ever seen him. "Ah, I remember when I was a Hufflepuff Prefect- young and sharing your same thirst for knowledge, although I didn't share your House." He opened the door to his private stores. "Normally, I would stay and assist you in your quest-" apparently Professor Burton had a flair for the dramatic- "but my presence is needed in the Headmaster's office. Be careful, and help yourselves to my private stores." Then he hurried out the door.

_The perks of being a Prefect!_

I set the book down, and it fell open to a well-worn page entitled _Cooling Potion. _"Cooling Potion," I read out loud. "Used for bringing down the temperature of a sick person."

"We have charms for that," Will grumbled.

"Nonetheless, it sounds interesting," I told him.

Will sighed. "All right. Ingredients?"

"Powdered unicorn horn, syrup of hellebore, sopophorous beans, sprigs of peppermint, dragon blood," I listed, reading from the page. "Dried flobberworms, eel eyes, snake spines, cardamom, charred valerian roots, lacewings, and frozen beetle livers. Wow, not many."

"But some of them are pretty hard to get," Will commented as he set a vial of syrup of hellebore and a small drawstring bag filled with powdered unicorn horn on the table in front of me, walking back into the private stores. "I mean, dragon blood? Powdered unicorn horn? And eel eyes- I can't remember the last time I used eel eyes in a potion."

I did. "Bulgeye Potion, third year."

He slung a bundle of fragile snake spines at me and said once I caught them, "I can't find any charred valerian roots."

"Are there normal ones?" I asked.

He checked. "Yes."

"I'll char them. Bring them here."

I lit a fire under a large cauldron and poured water into it. Then I took the roots from Will, who was setting down a tray of dried flobberworms on a table, and charred them with a quick spell. By the time I had finished, Will had gathered the remainder of the ingredients and was attempting to read the first step.

I pushed him playfully away from the book. "You can't even read it!"

"I can try," he protested.

"All right." I stepped away and folded my arms. "What does it say?"

He squinted at the script. "Something about… valerian roots?"

I shrugged, slightly impressed. "It says to chop two of the valerian roots into even pieces."

"How thick?" he asked.

"An eighth of an inch thick."

While Will set to cutting up the charred roots, I read the second step. After adding seven drops of syrup of hellebore, I stirred the thin liquid three times clockwise as quickly as I could. The potion sloshed up the sides of the huge black cauldron, but not even a single drop spilled. Proceeding to the third step, I crushed three sopophorous beans with the flat of one of Professor Burton's spare silver knives and scooped the juice into a vial, adding nine drops to the solution. I brought the liquid to a boil and kept it there as I added a tablespoon of powdered unicorn horn and grated half of a snake spine into it.

"I need those valerian roots," I said to Will, who handed me a small bowl full of charred valerian root pieces, each an eighth of an inch thick. Dumping them into the bubbling potion, I handed Will the wooden spoon and ordered him to stir steadily. He did so as I added three dead flobberworms and three small, slimy eel eyes. Will stirred for three and a half minutes while I grated the four frozen beetle livers into a small heap of dark shavings on a tiny plate. When the bubbling solution had turned dark and a white steam was rising from it, I added two teaspoons of dragon blood. The potion immediately turned light grey. The lacewings and cardamom went in, and after boiling for one more minute, I abruptly cut off the heat and Will dumped the frozen beetle liver shavings and a sprig of peppermint into the rapidly cooling mixture.

There was a puff of hot grey smoke that enveloped the room; when it cleared, we saw that the potion had turned a blue so light it was nearly white, just like it said it would in the great tome.

I poured out the potion- it filled three flasks, each one a dose. It smelled minty and was cool to the touch. "Madam Pomfrey will be glad to have these."

"They're amazing," Will agreed, all doubts gone, as singing began to reach our ears.

I picked up the flasks. "I'll bring these to the hospital wing. It sounds like the Quidditch match has just finished."

Will wrinkled his nose. "I do hope that we find a replacement Seeker or that Lanie gets better soon. I'd hate to get trampled by Gryffindor."

"It all depends on us finding that antidote," I called over my shoulder as I left the room. It wasn't until I was halfway to the hospital wing that I realized I hadn't thought about competing with Will, not once. We'd worked as a team, a good team, and it had never crossed my mind that I wasn't rivalling my nemesis.

**All right, guys. The results on my latest poll are in, and your favorite character is... Lanie Kelling, with 17% of votes! Following just behind her are Aly Salinger, Brooklyn Vawdrey, Nick Justice and Steven Dickens, each with 11%. Rossalene Chung, Will Greene, Niamh Trevett, Grace Liu, Lynne Turnip, and Conor Mathieson make up the remainder of votes with 5% each. As soon as this chapter goes up, so will a new poll- ****_least_**** favorite characters. And yes, this is really important to a later story... so what are you waiting for? Go ahead and vote!**

**~atrfla**


	16. Chapter 16: Couples and Careers

We did manage to find a replacement Seeker. Polly was small, and nearly as lithe as Lanie. She wasn't Lanie, but she was the closest we could get under the circumstances.

The Room of Requirement now had at least one teacher working to find Rowena Ravenclaw's magical cure at all times. On March 14th- three days after we found the letters- I joined Professor Turner in one form of the room, one that had been burned by Fiendfyre long ago during the battle of Hogwarts, to search. Luckily, most of the antiques were only scorched; I found a bust of an old man and a wig that were virtually unharmed, having been sheltered by an old cabinet. Half of the cupboard was crumbling to ash, but the only problem with the bust and wig was the thick layer of dust that was disturbed when I moved the cabinet. The bust toppled off of an old box that was carved with birds that we couldn't open with any spell or key, the dust rising up and sending Professor Turner into a sneezing fit that lasted seven minutes.

By the time late March rolled around 2 weeks later, nine more people had Gone Comatose and we were no closer to finding the cure. To make matters worse, Headmaster Fourier had banned human Transfiguration and, when we asked him why, simply said mysteriously, "I have my reasons". "_What _reasons?" my fellow students were asking, the news of human Transfiguration having spread rapidly throughout the corridors. "Why is he sending more people into comas? He could stop this but he isn't. What reasons could he possibly have for not saving students? What if we never find another cure?"

But I trusted Headmaster Fourier. So while Nicole Trout, Faye James, Pedro Fitz-Lewis, Jamie Mathieson, Juliet Livesey, Marshall Perrine, Ana Strait, Lea Henshawe, and a fourth-year Slytherin boy I didn't know went into coma after coma after coma, I brewed potions with Will, trained Polly to be a Seeker of Lanie's caliber, combed the Room of Requirement for a cure, and avoided Nick.

Two weeks after the march- March 31st- I could avoid the Gryffindor Seeker no longer. I'd had a free period and had spent it brewing a potion with Will (an excellent new thing called a Confidence Concoction that would come in handy for the influx of crazed, worried students that normally flooded the hospital wing at this time of year. Calming Draughts were useful, too, but those only took away your worries; this gave you _confidence!_). Brewing it also gave me an extra spring in my step, and I had just rounded a corner when I smashed into him.

"Aly," he sighed gratefully. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

All of my former cheer dissipated instantly. "I know," I said frostily.

"Why are you being so _chilly_ lately?"

That was when I snapped. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you _abandoned _me at the Christmas dance!" I shouted at him.

He froze, then raised his eyebrows. "You can't possibly be mad about _that_, still? It's been three months!"

"Three months for me to stew," I told him stiffly. "Why Elysa?"

He uncomfortably rubbed one arm. "She was kind of my girlfriend."

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. "And that didn't spread like wildfire once people got wind of it?"

"No one knew," he murmured, adding, "…except Nathan."

I threw back my head, laughing harshly. "Elysa didn't tell any of her friends? I don't believe it." My words were intentionally barbed, but he didn't seem to care.

"Elysa didn't tell anyone," Nick said sharply, "because I asked her to."

I looked down. He'd won and he knew it. "All right."

"I was breaking up with her when Grace got hexed," Nick told me, looking down and seeming almost… _bashful?_

I looked up and stared at him. "But I saw you dancing with her right before Steven Went Comatose!"

"We were interrupted, and I was trying again. I broke up with her on the way back to Gryffindor Tower." He looked up at me and attempted a weak version of his normal cocky smile.

This got my attention. "Did you really?"

"You sound interested," he noticed, rather arrogantly.

I shoved him playfully, and just like that, everything was back to normal. "So what?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "You're really interested?"

"Aly!"

Grateful for the interruption, I spun around to see who my savior was. It was Lynne, a pencil stuck haphazardly through her feathery hair. She held her book bag in her arms and wore a big grin on her face.

"Coming, Lynne!" I called. Then I turned back to Nick. "See you later, Seeker." Then I ran off before he could reply, leaving him surprised and speechless- two of my favorite emotions on the Gryffindor boy.

Lynne was giggling uncontrollably when I reached her. "You and Nick? I'd heard the rumors- we all have- but I never would've guessed that they were true!"

"What's got _you_ so giggly today?" I grumbled, heading for the Great Hall.

She stopped immediately and turned bright red. "Is it that obvious?"

"What happened?"

Just then, Brooklyn joined us, hefting her ripped back- obviously newly torn- in her arms so that nothing would fall out. "Bloody Headmaster Fourier," she fumed. "My bag broke on the way to Defense Against the Dark Arts and I can't write to Dad or go down to Hogsmeade or get a new one!"

"Have you tried repairing it?" Lynne suggested, no doubt glad to talk of another subject than… whatever she'd been so jovial about.

"Yeah, but the seam's weak, so it just broke again," Brooklyn explained.

"I'll ask around Ravenclaw Tower for a needle and thread after dinner," I volunteered.

Brooklyn sighed. "Would you, Aly? Thanks." She seemed tired- probably because she'd been worrying herself to death over her sister, staying up late raking through the piles of antiques in the Room of Requirement, and poring over books in preparation for her O.W.L.s. Like all of us, she was hoping that maybe, just maybe, Rowena Ravenclaw's cure was hidden in plain sight- in a book somewhere or something- and that she would be the one to find it. "What were you talking about before I came?"

We climbed up a flight of stairs, jumping the trick step as Lynne hurriedly said "Nothing" at the same time that I replied "Lynne was over the moon and I wanted to find out why".

Brooklyn elbowed Lynne. "Is it Johnny?"

Blushing more crimson than the uniform of a passing Gryffindor, Lynne shyly nodded.

"I knew it!" howled Brooklyn.

"Keep your voice down," begged Lynne.

"Details," I pleaded.

Lynne blushed even more. "Well, I was walking along with him after Herbology and… he kissed me."

"He _what?_" Brooklyn shrieked, not paying attention to Lynne's pleas.

"Like, on the cheek?" I pressed.

She shook her head and pointed to her lips.

"Wow!" Brooklyn grinned.

I squealed and gushed, "You make _such _an adorable couple," rather unnecessarily as we neared the doors of the Great Hall.

"Speaking of adorable couples," Lynne said, nudging me, "why were you talking to Nick?"

"She was talking to Nick?" Brooklyn asked with a new spark of interest in her voice as we pushed through the doors of the Great Hall. "I thought you were ignoring him, Aly."

"I was," I allowed. "We made up. Ooh, look- Shawnee! And shepherd's pie!" I ran over to my friend and the food, leaving Brooklyn and Lynne lingering in the doorway to chat and gossip.

The next Monday was the third of April, and it brought not only the beginning of Easter break but another coma as well. Leja Rice dropped suddenly while relaxing in the Slytherin commons with Brooklyn. We all redoubled our efforts to find the cure after that.

When I wasn't searching for a cure in the Room of Requirement, I was looking through the stacks of brochures and packets that had appeared on the table over the weekend. Lynne and Shawnee always had search duty when I didn't, so I sifted through the papers with Will. Both of us were startled to find that there were only eight and a half weeks left until our exams and that we were expected to meet with our Head of House, along with Headmaster Fourier, to discuss career choices- which is what the packets were for.

"_Daily Prophet _reporter," I read out from one brochure that was pure white with stark black block lettering and gold curlicues. "They want O.W.L.s in Charms, History of Magic, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes… that's not bad, you could do it…"

Will shrugged. "I don't know, writing isn't really my thing."

"True," I allowed.

"Healer," he suggested as a reply, flipping through a lime green pamphlet that had a drawings of a bone and a wand crossed on the front of it. "They want either an O or an E in Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts… that's in N.E.W.T. level, mind you… well, I don't fancy that at all. But you could do it!"

"Put it in my pile," I directed him, for I was interested in Healing after having taken a trip to St. Mungo's when I was five thanks to a nasty spell gone wrong when I was visiting my father at his Ministry job. He put the packet on top of two more brochures that I would have to read through in more detail later: a blue-and-purple one for Magizoologist (Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic, and Herbology) as well as a blue-and-gold one for professional Quidditch player (must have been on House team; _the Quidditch world wants YOU!_). "Hey, look, Muggle Relations." I read the brochure, snorting with laughter. "They want an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies and '_a good sense of fun_'… Ana'll _love _this…"

I fell silent, having had forgotten that Ana might never wake up. But Will hadn't seemed to hear me; he held up a pamphlet that was black and gold with green lettering. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement, this sounds like you- Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Potions, Herbology, History of Magic-"

"Put it in my pile," I mumbled, picking up a brown packet with the silver words _Broom-Maker _emblazoned on the front.

"Aly! Will!"

I turned around in my fluffy blue armchair to see _Brooklyn_ of all people sprinting towards us.

"Brooklyn?" I said in amazement as she skidded to a stop beside my chair. "But—how did you get in?"

"Some sixth years let me in," she panted. "Well, they didn't really let me in so much as I slipped in before the door could close." Instead of marveling at the beauty of the Ravenclaw commons at high noon, she said something that send me into complete and utter shock: "Professor Ross-Campbell just Went Comatose!"

"_What!?_" Will and I shouted, him half rising from his chair.

"I know! I was asking her about the hieroglyphic runes from Thursday's lesson and she just- _toppled!_" Brooklyn explained, quite out of breath. "How are we going to pass our Ancient Runes O.W.L. without a teacher? We still have nine weeks left! Imagine how much she could have taught us in nine weeks!"

"Headmaster Fourier took Ancient Runes when he was in school," said Will thoughtfully. "At least, one of the portraits in the fourth-floor corridors told me he did. He could be our teacher."

"He's only certified to teach Potions," Brooklyn argued.

"As Headmaster of Hogwarts during a trying period of time, he can probably step in," I mused. "Plus, you know Professor Ross-Campbell; she writes up all of her lesson plans at the beginning of the year. They're probably in her desk, and if Headmaster Fourier got them, he _could_ teach us."

"Brooklyn!" someone called out.

We all turned to see Lynne hurrying in our direction, Shawnee on her tail. "How did you get in? What's the fuss?"

"Professor Ross-Campbell just Went Comatose," I told them quickly.

"No!" Shawnee breathed. She took Divination with the absentminded Professor Quirke instead of Ancient Runes, but she knew Professor Ross-Campbell from last year's many exploits. "How?"

"She got the plague, silly," Lynne said.

"Now even the _teachers _aren't safe," Brooklyn sighed.

"They weren't in the first place," Will pointed out. "They had an equal chance of contracting the plague as each of us."

"But there are less professors," I corrected him, "and that's why they took so long to get hit."

"Or their immune systems were able to fight it off at first, but then succumbed," Shawnee murmured reflectively, wandering off.

"Banker," Will said, and it took me a moment to realize that he'd abandoned the conversation and gone back to reading brochures. "They need Arithmancy, so I _could_ do it… but banking isn't really my _style_…"

"I think you'd make an excellent banker," Lynne voiced, poker-faced, as Brooklyn sniggered quietly behind Will's chair.

"Do you think so?" Will looked up at Lynne, then shrugged and placed the pamphlet on his small pile. "Well, I do suppose I'd be decent at it…"

The next day, a notice appeared on the walls of Ravenclaw Tower. It had a list of times and dates on which we would meet with Professor Brocklehurst and Headmaster Fourier for our career counseling session. I was scheduled for Tuesday during Defense Against the Dark Arts, right after Nathan Price.

Tuesday after History of Magic, I bid goodbye to Lynne and Shawnee and bounded off to Headmaster Fourier's office. There I told the gargoyle the password- _Paris_, since Headmaster Fourier loved to travel- and knocked on the polished door after ascending the stairs. I was greeted by a cheerful "Come in!"

I stepped into Headmaster Fourier's office. Kindly old Professor Brocklehurst smiled and tucked a lock of blond hair that was streaked with grey behind her ear. She was inhabiting the Headmaster's chair and seemed quite comfortable. "Miss Salinger, _so _glad you could make it."

My eyes went to the corner in which Headmaster Fourier sat upon a stool, holding a clipboard in one hand. He looked almost normal, like the charming Potions teacher who had made us laugh in every class since first year instead of the distant, troubled Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Hello, Professor. Hello, Headmaster."

"Miss Salinger," he replied, inclining his head ever so slightly.

I sat in the chair opposite Professor Brocklehurst as she ruffled through a sheaf of papers on the impeccably neat desk in front of her. "You have top marks in all of your classes, Miss Salinger. If I'm correct, you take Potions, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Astronomy, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, Study of Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies… yes?"

"Not Arithmancy," I corrected her. "I dropped that in third year."

"And you never took Divination with Professor Quirke, am I right?" Headmaster Fourier asked.

I nodded. "There's never been any Seer blood in my family, nor have I shown any particular talent for the subject. It seemed like a waste of a class… not because it's a bad class, just because I'm not very good at it."

"So you take three electives," Professor Brocklehurst noted, taking a piece of parchment from the sheaf and crumpling it into a neat little ball. With a wave of her wand, it vanished. "That's still more than the average student. Professor Zeller did have such high hopes for you… but I suppose if you haven't taken Arithmancy for two years, there's nothing we can do now." She put the papers aside and faced me with folded hands. "So, Miss Salinger, what do you want to do with your life?"

I removed a stack of brochures from my bag. They were the ones from my pile, the ones that Will and I had sorted through over Easter break. "These are the pamphlets I liked. The career ones. I looked through all of them over the holidays, and these were the jobs that called to me."

Headmaster Fourier and Professor Brocklehurst looked them over. The latter picked up the black-and-gold Department of Magical Law Enforcement brochure, flipping through the pages. "Law enforcement calls to you?" she asked skeptically.

"A friend suggested I try for Minister of Magic," I answered with a shrug. "_That _appealed to me, and this seems like the best office to enter if I want that job."

Headmaster Fourier nodded. "That's a very intelligent conclusion."

"What's this?" Professor Brocklehurst said, scooping up the Healer brochure. "Healer? Why, Miss Salinger- not to rush you into a specific profession, but this is the perfect career for you! It utilizes Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts… plus, Healers have been known to go on to take up prized and respected positions! Take Dilys Derwent, for example. She was a famed St. Mungo's Healer of nineteen years and went on to become one of the most esteemed Hogwarts Headmistresses in the history of the school for twenty-seven years!" She beamed at me.

"Or Althia Sweet, who used her knowledge of the sick to create a special brand of Healer's wands that specialize in healing injuries and sicknesses," Headmaster Fourier added.

"Healing did sound good," I said slowly. What I didn't say was the thought running through my mind: _If I can't heal the plague, what good of a Healer would I be?_

Professor Brocklehurst noticed my hesitation. "What is it, Miss Salinger?"

I shrugged, quickly thinking up a different reason, although no less true. "My father is a Ministry worker, of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and Mum's a Daily Prophet reporter and part of the Wizengamot. That means that they both have ties to the Ministry. I think they'd be a little disappointed if I didn't go into Ministry work."

Professor Brocklehurst rose. "Don't worry about what your parents want, dear. Do what _you_ like. And I'm sure they will be fine with you saving lives and possibly becoming Minister of Magic later in life. I wouldn't be surprised if you _did _go on to become the Minister."

I tried to follow her example, but I stood too fast and knocked into the Headmaster's desk, sending it tipping over. The plethora of silver instruments clattered to the floor.

I turned scarlet. Dropping to the floor, I scrambled to gather up all of the odds and ends before the dust had settled, apologizing profusely to Headmaster Fourier as I did. "I'm so sorry, Headmaster, I can be _such_ a klutz…"

He knelt beside me to pick it all up. Professor Brocklehurst- who suffered from a touch of arthritis- hovered nearby, taking the items from us and replacing them on the desk, which she bewitched back up to stand on its four feet. When there were only two things left, I picked them up and stood. The first item seemed to be a cross between a teapot and a lamp, and the second was an intricately carved silver knife with shimmering white gems in the handle. I held them up. "What are these?"

"The pot, I don't know. Honestly, some of these have been here since Albus Dumbledore was Headmaster!" joked Headmaster Fourier with some of his old lightness. "But the knife opens any lock. It was one of Damien's antiques, and, well, it seemed such a valuable object to Vanish or melt down, don't you think?"

I turned the knife over in my palm. "It's very beautiful- and if it really does open any lock, then it's useful, too." Then I reversed the knife and gave it handle-first to Professor Brocklehurst as I stood (more carefully this time) and placed the pot on Headmaster Fourier's desk. "Thank you, Headmaster-" I nodded to him and then to Professor Brocklehurst- "Professor." Then I gathered my things and ran to lunch.

**Hope you liked it! Please vote on my poll!**


	17. Chapter 17: Rumors and Romance

**I forgot- Althia Sweet from last chapter is made up. I should really remember to say that. All right, on to Chapter Seventeen!**

As there were only seven weeks until our exams, the common room was transformed into a study zone. First-years went over their Defense Against the Dark Arts notes, performing Wand-Lighting Charms and Knockback Jinxes. Second-years studied diagrams of Saturn and its moons. Groups of third-years tried to identify the parts of a unicorn in their Care of Magical Creatures textbooks. A cluster of nearby fourth-years chattered loudly about the magical properties of the number seven. The rest of the fifth-year girls attempted to read each other's palm lines and drank too much tea to get tea leaves. Sixth-years quizzed each other on the correct procedures of brewing a Wit-Sharpening Potion, while seventh-years practiced Conjuring Spells in the alcoves. Meanwhile, I sat with Will and Eric, testing them on their knowledge of ancient runes.

"Meaning of the rune _graphor_," I requested.

"That's easy," Will complained, sniffling. His cold had gotten worse, and for the sake of my Quidditch team as well as my own sake I hoped it was just that- a cold. I needed a good Beater partner, and I couldn't handle being the only student authority figure in Ravenclaw.

"Then what is it?" I challenged.

"Two," Eric volunteered quietly.

I smiled at him. "Exactly right. And _fwooper_?"

"Four," Will answered quickly. "Can you do something other than numerical runes?"

Just then, he broke into a fit of coughing. I waited until he had finished before flipping the pages of _Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms_. "All right… which one of you can tell me what the meaning of the _ehwaz _rune?"

"Partnership," Eric replied monotonously.

When Eric had correctly answered four questions without a peep from Will, I turned my head to look at the blonde boy. He was sprawled across his armchair, his tangled hair spread across the armrest. One of his legs dangled over the opposite armrest, and his eyes were closed.

I nudged him with my foot. "Will."

He didn't move, so I kicked him. Hard. "Will, wake _up_\- we're studying runes."

Eric got up and felt for a pulse. "He's not dead," he offered helpfully.

A horrible thought occurred to me, but first I said, "_Aguamenti_." A jet of cold water flew from my wand and drenched Will- and he did not wake up.

I tried a new thing. Pointing my wand firmly at his head, I murmured, "_Rennervate_"- and still he did not wake up.

"Will!" I said loudly- okay, shrieked. Will was not my best friend, but I'd grown to loathe him less over the past few months. Plus, he couldn't leave me alone as the only Prefect. The idea of that fair terrified me. "_Will!_"

The entire common room had stopped and was staring at me by that time. Everyone was deathly silent.

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," a tall third-year boy murmured, slipping out.

Lynne- who'd been studying Divination with Millie, Helen, Shawnee, Polly, and the rest of the fifth-year boys- stole up behind me. "I think he's Gone Comatose, Aly."

"_No_," I whispered. "I won't-"

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Shawnee whispered, reading my mind. "Mari's managed to control the Hufflepuffs just fine."

I cracked a smile, even as I looked at Will's unconscious body. "They're _Hufflepuffs_. They're typically very kind and innocent. I'd need a lot of brains to keep our witty lot in line."

"Which you have," Lynne informed me.

"Oh, shush."

A week passed, then another, and another… and a fourth… a fifth. And then it was Saturday, May 14th, and after a long break from Quidditch, it was time for the Slytherin v. Hufflepuff game. It was bitterly cold, unusual for early May- and although I should've been staying inside to study, instead I pulled on my jumper, fastened my cloak, and went down to the Great Hall.

Kayla was at the Hufflepuff table, looking more stressed than I'd ever seen her. In the span of four days back in March, she'd lost _all_ of her Chasers to comas and had had to create a whole new team of them. Scratch that- she'd nearly created a whole new team, _period_. Alex and Jay had switched over to being Chasers, joined by Ella. Johnny and Matt had become the new Beaters- after all, they were practically a pair of human Bludgers themselves. The only people who stayed in their positions were Mari and Kayla.

And the Slytherin team- only their Beaters had Gone Comatose and had had to be replaced. Marcus had played in lieu of Seamus, but Zola had been replaced by Eli Lupin. He wasn't a bad Beater, especially when paired with Marcus- finesse and brute force working as a team could work wonders- but I knew that the nearly inseparable team of Matt and Johnny would (pardon my pun) _beat_ them into submission no matter how good they were.

I found a good seat, huddling against the biting winds that nipped at the few square inches of exposed flesh on my face. I wrapped my blue scarf tighter around my neck and rubbed my glove-clad hands together.

Someone sat down on my right side, squeezing in between me and the commentator's box. Expecting it to be Rossalene, I said without looking, "I can't wait to see Johnny and Matt in action. This ought to be good- yeah, Ross?"

"Yeah," agreed a decidedly male voice that was definitely _not_ Rossalene.

My head snapped around. The person sitting next to me was tall and wrapped in a black cloak, scarlet scarf, vermilion muffler and matching gloves. Bright bluish-green eyes peered laughingly out from above his scarf, which- like mine- was wrapped over his nose and mouth. I _knew _those eyes.

"Nick," I said, surprised. "I thought you were Rossalene."

"I could tell," he replied dryly. "Who are you rooting for?"

I shrugged. "It's not like I have a House loyalty to either one. My two best friends are in these Houses, one each. I don't really care who wins, I'm just here for a good match."

"An escape from life," Nick guessed.

I nodded, sighing. My warm breath made it past my scarf and appeared as a white puff in the chilly air. "Fifth-year duties are tiring. It's even worse when you're a Prefect- the lone one of your House, no less- _and_ you're spending half of your time searching for a cure that might not even exist anymore. It might have crumbled or been burned or been stolen-"

"Calm down," he laughed. "I'm sure the cure's still in the Room of Requirement. And _you'll _be the one to find it. You're the Ravenclaw Prefect, probably the smartest in the year." The corners of his eyes crinkled, meaning he was probably grinning. "Although not the prettiest. I definitely hold that title."

I smacked him. "Shut up."

"If it's there," he went on, "you'll find it. I'm sure of it."

Then someone plopped down on my other side. It was Rossalene, her whole face exposed. She nudged me, pink-cheeked and grinning. "I can't wait to watch Matt and Johnny play… this is going to be a massacre!" She giggled. "In a good way, of course."

"If we don't all freeze to death," I said, shivering. "And my wand's in the dormitory, so I can't make a fire."

"Same," Rossalene added. Then she caught sight of Nick. "Aly, is that Nick? I didn't know you two had made up! Are you-"

I elbowed her in the side, effectively cutting off her sentence. Nick just chuckled. Before any of us could speak, Lyndsay climbed into the commentator's box and waved cheerily at us. "Guid day for a Quidditch match, eh?"

We all nodded to her and agreed that yes, although it was cold, it was a good day for a match. Then she pointed her wand at her throat, murmured "_Sonorus_," and announced her voice booming around the stadium: "Ladies an' gents, welcome tae the fifth Quidditch match o' the year! Hurry tae yer seats an' ah'll announce th' teams- Hufflepuff! Versus! Slytherin!"

"Can you believe how she pronounces _Slytherin_?" Nick whispered in my ear. "I've always found it funny."

I stifled a laugh as Lyndsay shouted, "First up is th' Hufflepuff team- the Captain, Strait! An' Henshawe- Zobrist- Nguyen- Gonzalez- Garza- an' _Bird!_"

Kayla paraded out, followed by her team. Rossalene whistled and cheered loudly beside me. I clapped politely.

"An' next- Wood- Liu- Vawdrey- Cheverell! Rice-" Lyndsay faltered a little on the next name- "_Lupin_\- and- _Trotter!_"

The Slytherin team strolled out onto the playing field. Eli's face was redder than normal, and even Brooklyn seemed a little pink in the cold air.

Coach Sutherland said something- probably _"Shake hands, Captains!"_\- but it was lost in the wind. Austin firmly shook Kayla's hand and then Coach Sutherland blew his whistle. Everyone immediately took to the air.

"An' Zobrist, Zobrist wi' the Quaffle," began Lyndsay. "She was a Beater, aye, but she's switched tae Chaser… passes tae Nguyen, a new addition tae the team, who passes ta- _intercepted _by Slytherin Chaser Vawdrey, meant for Henshawe- and she's down the field, nice one-handed Sloth Grip Roll to get around Zobrist, _hit_ by a well-aimed Bludger from Gonzalez-"

"_Brooklyn!_" Rossalene and I screamed. She'd been hit in the small of her back by a Bludger from Johnny, and she fumbled the Quaffle and nearly fell off of her broom-

"-but Cheverell's there tae save th' Quaffle, an' Vawdrey seems tae be in guid condition- yes, there's the thumbs-up- an' Cheverell dodges a Bludger from Garza and _shoots_\- she _SCORES!_ Ten-naught tae Slytherin, an' Henshawe's in possession…"

Nick whispered in my ear, "Lyndsay's a great Beater, but she's an even better commentator, don't you think?"

"I don't know," I breathed back. "I haven't seen her play- except for her tryout, of course."

He laughed. "I've seen _you_ play, though. And you're the best Beater a team could have."

The sudden flattery brought a warm flush to my cheeks. "Oh. Thank you."

"Somehow, though," he continued, "I think I'd be better."

It took a moment for the arrogant, playful words to register; but before I could shove him or tell him to hush, an icy wind blew furiously in our faces. I shivered, my teeth chattering, and pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them.

A warm weight on my shoulders startled me as an arm snaked around me. It was Nick's arm, and he pulled me closer, tethering me to him, sharing his body heat. In that instant, I forgave him for every arrogant thing he'd ever done, every cocky sentence he'd ever uttered, and allowed myself to rest my head on his shoulder.

He seemed surprised, but his arm tightened around me. When Rossalene glanced over to gush about a particularly great save Kayla had just made, she found us snuggled up together, trying to keep warm.

(At least, that was my excuse when a victorious Brooklyn and a disappointed Rossalene cornered me in the corridor after the match.)

**Yeah? I hope that that was everything you've been waiting for. It sure was for me!**

**Review, PM me if you have any questions/ideas, and... oh yeah! Don't forget to vote on my poll! It's helping me with some new ideas. I swear, **_**NOTHING**_** is random.**

**~atrfla**


	18. Chapter 18: Preparation for the Match

**Welcome to atrfla's Spring Break Fifth Year Mass Posting, Part III!**

On Thursday, May 19th, Helen became the first person to receive a Confidence Concoction- _thanks to Will and me_\- after a nervous breakdown during class. "I'm going to fail my O.W.L.s," she nearly sobbed.

(As a side note to people of other Houses: yes, it's true. We Ravenclaws _do _get stressed about exams. We do _not_ magically pass every test. We study and freak out and cry, just like you.)

The next day, I trudged into the common room holding my overflowing bag. I slumped into an armchair by the roaring fire pit. The commons were empty, with not a person in them- it was dinnertime, after all. But I wasn't hungry.

Fishing a scrap of parchment from between my Transfiguration textbook and _Quidditch Through the Ages_ (which I had read a thousand times), I read the script on it over again. My head fell back onto the head of the cushy chair. _This can't be true! _

I'd heard tales of the teachers piling homework on the fifth-years right before their O.W.L.s; _essays_ at a time, _dozens _of assignments per week. This parchment detailed the ten homework assignments that I had to complete over the weekend. Some of it was homework from the day before, due on Monday, while the rest had been assigned that day, due on Tuesday or Wednesday.

_Transfiguration: practice Vanishing Charms_

_Charms: master the Silencing Charm_

_Study of Ancient Runes: review homonym runes_

_Care of Magical Creatures: one essay on the proper care of hippogriffs_

_Astronomy: finish northern-hemisphere constellation chart_

_Potions: essay on how to properly brew a Strengthening Solution (two rolls of parchment)_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts: essay on boggarts, how to deal with them, and what it would turn into for you_

_Muggle Studies: essay on Muggle transportation devices_

_History of Magic: foot-long essay on giant wars_

_Herbology: essay on Self-Fertilizing Shrubs_

Six essays? And that wasn't even _all_? Sighing, I pulled a table toward me; hauled a blank roll of parchment from my bag; and organized it, my quill, and my inkpot on the table in front of me. I dipped the quill in the ink, shook off the extra, and wrote across the top of the parchment: _Boggarts: My Reaction and How to Deal With Them_. As I was contemplating what exactly scared me most, I felt a tickling sensation in my nose. Then I sneezed, nearly knocking my inkpot off of the small table.

I froze, staring at my hands as the inkpot rattled to steadiness. _No, no, no. No. No. No, this can't happen._

I had contracted the plague.

_It might not be the plague,_ I told myself. _It's probably just a cold. It was freezing outside last weekend. It's probably __just__a__cold__._

_Boggarts_, I scrawled, banishing all thoughts of a plague from my mind. _How are they controlled? With the boggart-banishing spell, of course. The incantation is "Riddikulus", and as someone casts the spell, they are supposed to think of something silly happening to the thing they are afraid of…_

Two essays, and five hours later, I was asleep.

I woke up to someone shaking me. "Aly, wake up. Aly- _Aly?_"

I blinked open my eyes. Lynne was standing over me. She sighed in relief. "Oh, thank Rowena. I don't know what would happen if we lost you, too. It's time for your shift in the Room of Requirement."

I struggled to my feet. "Ugh. I want to find this cure…" I stifled a yawn- "but I'm _so _tired."

Lynne patted me sympathetically. "I know. Me, too. And we have a _ton _of homework… I still can't _believe_ Quirke would saddle us with an essay on tea leaves _and_ a dream diary…"

She wandered off, mumbling to herself. I ran up to the dormitory, washed up, and donned comfortable clothes. Then I sprinted through the corridors at top speed.

I made it in time for my shift with Professor O'Cain. She had tied her long, wavy red hair back into a high ponytail, and sensibly braided it. Her oval-shaped spectacles were attached on a string to her braid, so they wouldn't fall off. She smiled at me and Brooklyn (it was also my best friend's shift- we tried to coordinate as much as possible) and said lightly, "Shall we begin, then?"

I'll give Brooklyn one thing: she didn't dawdle. We'd only been looking through piles of random objects for two minutes before she poked me with a rusted fireplace poker. "You and Nick, huh? Is it a thing now? Rossalene told me _all _about you two snuggling up at the Quidditch match-"

"I gathered as much, since you cornered me afterwards," I muttered.

She shrugged. "Yet you gave me some lame excuse about keeping warm and then hurried off." She poked me again.

I rolled my eyes, pushing the poker away. "First of all, I'm not a fireplace, so stop poking me with that thing. Second of all, that _lame excuse _was true. It was cold and he put his arm around me- _that's all_."

Brooklyn raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"That's _so_," I stressed, and I was about to say more, but- _speak of the bloody devil- _Nick appeared from behind a pile of junk, holding something wrapped in a napkin.

"Hey, Nick," Brooklyn smirked. Nick looked surprised (the two of them didn't really talk all that much).

He approached me cautiously. "I saw that you weren't at breakfast this morning, or at dinner last night either, so… I brought you something to eat. You must be starving." He held out the napkin-wrapped bundle.

I was, but I hadn't noticed. "Thanks, Nick." I took the bundle. It was two pieces of toast, both slathered in strawberry jam. I bit gratefully into one. "Mmm."

He smiled. "Anytime." Then his grin turned mischievous. "Hey, you aren't using the Quidditch pitch today, are you?"

"I was planning to once I'm done with my shift," I mumbled around a mouthful of crumbly toast and sticky jam. "Why?"

"Good." He turned away. "Then I will." He flashed an arrogant smile over his shoulder and bounded off.

"I knew there was an ulterior motive," I grumbled, taking another bite of toast. "Nick Justice wouldn't just bring me toast if he thought I was _hungry_."

"He fancies you," Brooklyn teased.

"He does _not_," I retorted sharply.

"Does too-oo," Brooklyn sang, like she was four; then she turned away and started rooting through a big old tome in search of the cure.

Nick took up nearly the whole day on the Quidditch pitch, putting his team through complicated moves and long lectures. I'd never seen Nick so serious. When I watched a few minutes of their practice, enjoying the warmth and sunshine and also working on my Muggle Studies essay, I saw him stride back and forth in front of his team, waving his hands and pointing- at the goal hoops, up in the sky, at a struggling Bludger, and (once) up at me. Then he set the Chasers to weaving in and out of the goal hoops- to improve agility, perhaps- while the Beaters whacked a Bludger back and forth. Nick and his Keeper, Nate, flew over to the _other _set of hoops, where Nick few large stuffed Quaffles at him one after the other, shouting things like "Remember, they feint often!" and "Come on, Nate, do I have to bring on a substitute Keeper?" and my personal favorite, "_Panther, I am not even a Chaser and I'm still scoring half the time!_" It was amusing, but when the yelling became too loud, I slipped away to the benches by the greenhouses to get some peace.

Sunday afternoon I put my own team through their paces. My Chasers weren't as flashy as Nick's; my Seeker wasn't as arrogant; my Keeper wasn't as big or strong, but still as good or even _better_; and, of course, my Beaters weren't as strong. Still, I was ultimately satisfied with my team.

I'd had to ask Melody to come on as a Beater, and she'd improved greatly, but I had a feeling that I'd be the one doing most of the work during the game next Saturday. Polly would never be as good as Lanie, but she was decent- and she'd be searching quietly for the Snitch while Nick did stunts and showed off for the ladies. My Chasers and Keeper- well, they were still as awesome as ever.

And, of course, there was me.

When I entered the common room the night before the game, a group of first-years ran up to me and Lynne, holding up a big blue banner. Among them was little Dellie Thresher, who smiled at me and said, "We made a banner for Saturday."

I examined the painted eagles and the words _Go Ravenclaw! _Smiling at them all, I suggested, "Wouldn't it be better if it could move, too?"

With gasps and enthusiastic nods, the first-years- especially the Muggle-borns- barraged me with questions about enchanting the banner.

"Please, please, _please?_" asked Dellie, smiling vigorously.

"Can you make the eagles sing?" pleaded a boy with bright red hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a face pockmarked with freckles. He seemed too young to be eleven. _Did I seem that young when I was a first-year?_

"Or make it shimmer!" pestered a girl with a mass of shining blond ringlets flowing down her back.

A few spells later, the bronze eagles on the corners of the blue fabric flapped their wings and cawed loudly while a shimmering, bronze, cursive _Go Ravenclaw! _scrolled across the center, up and down and to the left and to the right and every which way. The younger ones applauded and clamored around me. I had to forcibly extract myself and head up to the dormitory for a little bit of peace and quiet.

_If the rest of Ravenclaw thinks we can win, then we can. And we will._

**Yeah? Yeah? Yeah? How'd you like it? You should review and let me know! Also, vote! Yasssssss! **

**Ooh, I can't wait to post later today! The chapter I'll post later is my favorite of all of them. You ought to be even more excited than you were even for Chapter 10!**

**See ya later!**


	19. Chapter 19: Time's Running Out

**He. He. Hehe. I said I would post yesterday... APRIL FOOL'S! Never trust anything I say on April 1st. Oh, but I wasn't lying about the whole this-chapter-being-my-favorite thing. Although the next is good too. And the one after that. And the one after that's the final chapter! So... read on! **

I was up by five in the morning, stretching. I went out to the Quidditch field after dawn to find the weather warm and slightly cloudy- _perfect _conditions. I took my broom for a few quick laps around the pitch to get myself ready; then, energy buzzing through my veins, I forced myself to land, dismount, and put my broom away. I couldn't risk flying any more on an empty stomach.

My stomach wasn't the only empty thing in the school. When I burst into the Great Hall, only a few teachers and a group of disgruntled Slytherins were in attendance. I sat myself down in the middle of the vacant blue table, pulled a platter of eggs toward me and started loading some onto my plate, feeling ravenous.

Slowly, people trickled into the Great Hall as I ate my eggs, toast, and potatoes. I knew the Gryffindor Quidditch team liked to come in halfway through breakfast, to make an _entrance_, so I wasn't at all surprised when Millie was the first of my fellow players to join me at breakfast. We rarely sat together, but that day she slid onto the bench next to me and nabbed a muffin from a plate piled high with them. "I'm so nervous," she confided, tucking a lock of streaky dark hair behind her ear.

"Don't be," I advised. "It's just like any other game."

"Not really," she replied, picking nervously at the sugary top of her muffin. "This decides the Quidditch Cup. How much do we have to win by in order to win the whole thing?"

"Only thirty points."

"_Only thirty points!_" she repeated, shaking her head. "That's three whole goals! Honestly, Aly, how are you so _calm_ about this?"

I smiled at her, swallowing a piece of spicy potato. "Because I have the best team in the school, that's why." Then I shoveled a forkful of salty, scrumptious eggs into my mouth and chewed.

(Sure enough, the Gryffindor team strutted in halfway through breakfast. They didn't get to intimidate us, though, as I gathered my team and left right before they arrived and passed them in the hall.)

In the changing rooms, I tugged at the door of the closet where we stored our equipment. Instead of swinging open to reveal helmets and shoes and other gear, the door simply rattled and stayed shut.

"It's locked," Helen said from behind me.

"Obviously," someone muttered.

"_Alohomora_," I said confidently, pointing my wand at the lock. I rattled the handle again, but it was still locked. _Weird._

"Stand back," suggested Shawnee, who was an expert in Muggle fighting techniques. We all took a few steps back to clear an area for her.

"Maybe there's a better way-" Melody tried to suggest.

I cut her off. "Shawnee knows what she's doing."

Shawnee stepped forward and performed a high kick that set the door swinging open.

We congratulated Shawnee with a short round of applause, then collected our uniforms. As I pulled on my Quidditch jersey, though, Melody's words echoed in my head.

_Maybe there's a better way…_

It wasn't until we were marching out in formation onto the field, with Eli announcing from the commentator's box: "Salinger! Lider! Haven! Turnip! Thresher! MacDougal! Aaand- _von Zeidler!_", that I realized something.

_The knife that can open any lock. One of Headmaster Damien's old antiques._

_The box carved with birds that no one could open._

_Birds- those were eagles._

_That box belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw._

_It probably has the recipe for the plague cure inside of it. If I can open it with the knife…_

But I couldn't stop. As ridiculous as it was, I had a Quidditch game to play.

The Gryffindor team strode out opposite us. They stopped just in front of me. Nick offered me a cocky grin, and I replied with a cold nod. I may have fancied him, but this was _Quidditch_, and I couldn't let my feelings get in my way.

"The Gryffindor Quidditch team!" boomed Eli to a lot of cheering from the scarlet-and-gold end of the pitch. "Led by Justice! Then Braithnoch! Mathieson! Lange!" As Shellie Lange, one of Libby's best friends and the substitute Chaser for Lea Henshawe, waved to the rowdy crowd, Eli hesitated. Professor Burton, who was standing behind him, gave him a little nudge as if to say, _Go on. Say the next name._

"…_Winters_," Eli said, and his voice grew stronger as he continued, "Webb! And Panther! These are your teams!"

Roaring cheers filled the air. I spotted Dellie and her friends in the blue-and-bronze end of the stadium, waving the banner we'd made emphatically in the air. The sight made me smile.

"Captains, shake hands!" Sir Sutherland ordered. Nick stuck out his hand, and I reached out and shook it. When I tried to pull away, Nick squeezed my hand and _then_ dropped it. I snatched my hand back as if I'd been burned. _Now is not the time for feelings. He's trying to get under your skin, Aly!_

"Mount your brooms," Sir Sutherland ordered. We did so. "On my whistle. One, two-"

_Tweet!_

I pushed off and rose into the air, a warm breeze playing with the curly light brown wisps of hair that had escaped from my frizzy ponytail. Almost immediately, I had to defend Lynne from a Bludger that came hurtling towards her. I hit it at Shellie, who had the Quaffle, but Lyndsay came out of nowhere and hit it at Millie, who was saved by Melody… and so it went.

We scored. We scored again. Helen accidentally fouled Conor, and Gryffindor scored thanks to that. We scored again, they scored again. After a grueling thirty minutes, the score was 100-270 Ravenclaw, and I was happy, although still a bit distracted by the thought of the box and the knife.

Two blurs streaked in front of my face- one dark blue, the other bright crimson- and I recognized them as Polly and Nick. They were chasing after the _Snitch! _I glanced at the scoreboard.

_If Gryffindor gets the Snitch, we'll lose by ten points!_

Locating a Bludger, I sped toward it. Then I hit the small black ball at Nick's outstretched arm with as much force as I could.

"_Ravenclaw scores!" _Eli shouted in the background. "The score is two hundred and eighty to one hundred, with Ravenclaw in the lead, and the Seekers have seen the Snitch- it's neck and neck-"

The Bludger connected with Nick's arm, but it was too late. His fingers had closed around the Snitch. I heard a horrible _crack _and only then did Eli's shouts register.

_We scored!?_

"Final score two hundred and eighty to two hundred and fifty, _Ravenclaw wins!_" Eli screamed, obviously delighted with the exciting ending. "_Ravenclaw wins-_ but _Gryffindor _caught the Snitch- what an _ending!_ And I believe-" Eli glanced back at Professor Burton, who nodded- "Ravenclaw needed to win by thirty points at least to win the Quidditch Cup- they've won by exactly thirty points-" Eli took a deep breath and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Ravenclaw Quidditch team- _winners of this year's Quidditch House Cup!_"

The crowd as a whole went crazy, the Ravenclaw fans cheering and dancing and singing, the Gryffindor supporters shouting loudly and pointing at Nick- who had turned an unflattering shade of green and landed, sinking to the ground and holding his arm.

Sir Sutherland rushed over, as did both Quidditch teams. We crowded around Nick.

"Is he all right?" Millie asked.

"What _happened?_" Nate whispered.

Conor turned to me, fire in his eyes. "It's Aly's fault. She hit him with a Bludger!"

Panicking- he wasn't lying, after all- I held my hands up. "I did, yes- but that's what Beaters do," I tried to explain calmly. "And he was about to get the Snitch- I had to try- it's probably just a broken arm, Madam Pomfrey can fix it up in an instant- I'll take him to the hospital wing myself-"

"You can't!" Helen protested. "They're bringing out the Cup now, and you're our Captain, you _have_ to be there!"

I could see Headmaster Fourier standing by the edge of the pitch, holding the shimmering silver Cup.

"I guess I do."

I accepted the Cup from Headmaster Fourier and held it in the air. The cheers swelled in a crescendo, and I grinned. Ravenclaw would hold the Cup, at least for another year. But all I could think of was Nick's arm bending the wrong way, a sickening _crack_, a silver knife, and a box patterned with eagles.

My team tried to hoist me onto their shoulders, but I stopped them. Instead, I looked over at my Chasers. "Which one of you scored the last goal?"

Millie gave a little wave. "Me."

I handed the Cup to her. "_You're _the one who should be carried on our shoulders. Go ahead, take it."

Millie took the silver trophy reverently and thrust it up into the air. Ravenclaws hooted and screamed and danced as we hoisted Millie onto our shoulders, her dark hair tumbling from her ponytail, and made for the doors of Hogwarts.

The Ravenclaws had set up a party for us, compliments of Professor Brocklehurst and the kitchen house-elves. Butterbeer, sweets, food- it was all there. The Quidditch Cup replaced Rowena Ravenclaw's statue on the pedestal right where everyone would see it. While everyone was crowded around it, oohing and aahing, I took two butterbeers and slipped out.

I went to the hospital wing. After pushing open the doors- instead of seeing everyone huddled around Nick- I spotted the Gryffindor Seeker sitting sideways on a bed, stretching his newly healed arm. The crowd of people was around Steven Dickens' bed, not Nick's.

I handed Nick a butterbeer and sat next to him. "Hi."

"I get that you didn't like me squeezing your hand," he grumbled, "but you didn't have to break my arm in retaliation."

I burst out laughing. "By Rowena's diadem, Nick! I hit you with a Bludger because you were about to catch the Snitch."

He cracked a smile.

"So what's up with Steven?" I asked, gesturing to the crowd of people around the bed of the comatose Hufflepuff prefect. "Is he getting better?" I took a gulp of butterbeer- foamy, creamy, and sweet.

"No," Nick said quietly. "He's taken a turn for the worse, in fact."

I spluttered, nearly spewing butterbeer all over the next bed- the one that had Libby Vawdrey tucked between its sheets. "The knife!" I cried, shooting up. "The box! How could I have forgotten?"

Nick jumped up, too. "What knife? What box? What are you talking about?"

I quickly pulled him out of the hospital wing, explaining on the way to the Room of Requirement. When we reached the seventh-floor corridor, I found the door ajar and sounds of clinking and rattling from within. Darting through the doorway, I navigated through the heaps of junk, looking for the crumbling cabinet, the bust, and the wig. I nearly tripped over a kneeling Professor Zeller, who was examining an ancient scroll with the word _Arithmancy_ scrawled across the top in messy script; instead, hurtling over her, I made for the crumbling cabinet that was just around the next pile of stuff.

A hacking cough nearly swept me off my feet, but Nick caught me and righted me. "You okay?" he asked.

The coughing stopped with a boisterous sneeze. Tottering on my feet, I pointed. "That's the cabinet," I rasped, "the one we want. The box is behind it."

Nick helped me sit on an old, slightly scorched tasseled stool before rushing off and forcing the cabinet aside with one strong push. The old bus lay on its side, the wig atop its head askew, on an old box patterned with birds. Nick seized the box, sending the bust and wig clattering to the floor. The bust's head broke off, but Nick didn't bother to repair it. He dashed back to me, grinning like a small child who had just chewed his first Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

I stood. "The knife. We have to get it!"

He seized my hand with his free one, and soon we were careening madly through the corridors, laughing giddily despite the seriousness of the situation. We skidded to a stop in front of the headmaster's office, both of us breathing heavily. I coughed, and Nick shot me a worried glance.

"Password?" groaned the gargoyle.

"Paris?" I guessed between coughs. "That was the- password when I- came- for my career counseling."

"It was London for me," Nick murmured.

"New York!" I tried. "Rome! Athens!"

Nick leaned against the gargoyle, almost lazily guessing, "Los Angeles. Madrid. Miami. Nuuk-"

The gargoyle swung away, revealing a set of spiral stairs, a set of steps I had climbed before. Nick fell backward, his arms pinwheeling, and caught himself on the railing.

"Nuuk, _Greenland?_" I asked in amazement. Then I sneezed. "I never would've guessed."

We climbed up the steps, hopping the last few, and knocked on the Headmaster's door.

There was no answer.

"Come on," I said, cracking the door open. It was dark, but as soon as I stepped into the room, lights blazed to life, illuminating the whole golden room.

"The desk," I instructed Nick, pulling him towards the large carved desk. "Look for a silver knife. The handle's inlaid with grey gems."

Nick found it first, stuck between a small accordion-like object and a bowl full of golden marbles. He pulled it out with a flourish. "Got it, Aly." Pushing aside a small statue of a man in a tall wizard's hat, Nick set the carved box down on the desk. Wedging the knife into the lock, he wiggled it back and forth, murmuring: "Come on, come _on_, open,_ open already_…"

There was a series of clicks, and the top of the box folded away as if it was paper. Inside the now-lidless box was a scroll, old and cream-colored but _not_ crumbling.

I lifted it out with gentle hands, unrolling it. It was entitled _Panacea _in the fancy, nearly-indecipherable handwriting that I now recognized as Rowena Ravenclaw's. At the bottom of the parchment was an intricate seal that consisted of a nearly spider-like web of lines around two interlocked _R_s.

"Rowena's," I breathed. "Panacea… that's a word for a universal antidote. This is it! Rowena Ravenclaw's cure-all!" The moment was cut off by one of my own hacking coughs…

…which was why we didn't hear Headmaster Fourier until the door opened. He stormed in, face scarlet- with rage? Relief? I couldn't tell- and waved his right index finger at us. "H-how did you get in here, Miss Salinger, Mr. Justice? Why are you touching those antiques? _Put that down this instant!_" he reprimanded Nick. Then he spotted the scroll in my hands and froze. "What's that scroll, Miss Salinger?"

"There's no time to explain." I looked at Nick. "I'm Going Comatose soon. I can feel it." At his horrified face, I smiled sadly and continued, "Explain the situation to the Headmaster. I'm going to brew this. I'll be in the Potions classroom." Then I reached for his hand, squeezed it quickly, and ran out.

The Potions classroom was deserted when I arrived, but no sooner had I retrieved a clean cauldron from the cabinet did Lyndsay, Brooklyn, and Rossalene burst in.

"Brooklyn saw ye runnin' and figured ye'd be here," Lyndsay said by way of explanation. "So, did ye find the cure?"

"Yes," I said shortly. "I'm brewing it now." I hefted the cauldron onto a desk and smoothed the scroll out on an adjoining table, reading the ingredients list and only pausing to sneeze. Twice.

"Could you use a little help?" Rossalene asked.

I looked at my friends. Together we made up all of the Hogwarts houses and their defining traits- and a little bravery, ambition and kindness never goes amiss. I coughed and said, "I could, actually. Brooklyn, I need powdered horn of bicorn. Rossalene- dried beetle legs. Lyndsay, knotgrass."

They scrambled to get the ingredients. I lit a fire beneath the cauldron and alternated between stoking it and telling my friends which ingredients to get, from Cornish pixie toenails (Lyndsay) to molasses (Rossalene) to hippogriff feathers (Brooklyn). When everything was ready, I had a coughing fit- the others waited patiently until I finished- before starting.

Three dried beetle legs into a mortar; crush it with the pestle, add the powder to warm water. Two tablespoons of powdered bicorn horn. Four strands of vela hair. I worked mechanically and precisely, pausing only to cough, sneeze, or ask my friends to get an ingredient that I had accidentally skipped on the list. I didn't stop when Professor Burton walked in and my friends had to explain in hushed whispers what we were doing. I didn't stop when Brooklyn accidentally dropped a crystal jar of juice of a dirigible plum on the floor and it shattered, the orange juice seeping over the floor, and Lyndsay bent to clean it up and cut herself on a shard of glass. I didn't even look up when Rossalene unintentionally knocked over a desk (although, thankfully, not the one I was working on) and all on it. I just stirred- one stir clockwise, two stirs counterclockwise, three clockwise, four counterclockwise… all the way to ten counterclockwise stirs. Before the liquid stilled, I added half of a teaspoon of ground wing bone of a thestrals. The potion immediately turned so clear as to be invisible. I added knotgrass, brought the potion to a boil, and added sixteen rose thorns. Three clockwise stirs turned the potion a bright orange. Eight Cornish pixie toenails, half of a dragon scale, and seven splashes of molasses. I added them all. Brooklyn crushed the hippogriff feathers with the same mortar and pestle I had used for the beetle legs, and in they went. Three counterclockwise stirs and a drop of honey later, the potion thickened and turned a pretty silvery-blue. By that time I was coughing and sneezing so much I could hardly prepare to add the last ingredient- five drops of freshly drawn human blood. As I grabbed a silver knife from my potions kit, a queer sensation came over me- lightheadedness, but also a type of heaviness. I was dizzy, but all I wanted to do was sit down and rest. Pushing the feeling down, I yanked the knife across my left palm. A fat drop of blood welled up, then another and another- and the feeling overcame me, and I crumpled to the ground, my eyes fluttering shut.

**Hope you liked it! Now, review, vote... you know the drill.**


	20. Chapter 20: At Last! (and OWLs)

**I got a lot of flames (some playful, some not) about the cliffhanger. Hehe. I don't think that'll happen again.**

There was the unmistakable feeling of liquid trickling into my mouth- an explosion of sensation and color in my mind- and I awoke. My eyes fluttered open, and I winced at the bright light- but almost immediately, a dark shape blocked most of it. It was Lynne.

"Stay down," she said, a smile as bright as the sun spreading across her face. "You're still pretty weak."

The memories came rushing back. "I Went Comatose?" I asked weakly.

Lynne nodded. "You've only been out for a few hours. We had to add the blood- Lyndsay cut her palm- and let it cool for an hour, but as soon as it was ready we started administering the potion_ you_ made to the students," she informed me.

I grinned, mostly out of relief. "So it worked!"

"It worked," she laughed. "Oh- one second, there's someone here who'd like to see you."

She disappeared, replaced almost instantly by Nick. He looked exactly like he had when I'd last seen him- he hadn't even bothered to change out of his Quidditch gear- except for the look of relief in his eyes.

"You're awake!"

"It worked," I murmured.

"It did!" A grin spread over his face. "Aly, you're a genius, a bloody genius. Lyndsay- she could read the handwriting too- she said she couldn't have brewed the potion if her life depended on it, that it was _N.E.W.T. _level! You're a bloody _genius!_"

"I just brewed a potion," I said modestly, sitting up.

"A bloody difficult one!" he went on, helping me stand. "Also, _never_ do-"

"Aly!" shrilled a voice, putting an end to our conversation. Rossalene flew over and hugged me tightly. "Thank you so, so, _so _much! You've saved Steven and all the rest."

I hugged her back. "It was nothing."

I moved around, seeing that everyone had indeed woken up. Lanie and Shawnee were chattering like two birds. Brooklyn was hugging Libby like there was no tomorrow, tears of relief streaming down her face. Will and Zola were talking quietly, as were Mari and Niamh, while a few of Leja's Slytherin friends stood around her, clamoring for her attention. Tommy and Juliet were awake- Faye- Nicole- Pedro- Lea- Seamus- Jamie- Marshall- Ana- they were all up and happily greeting their visitors. Even Professor Ross-Campbell was sitting in her bed, drinking a Strengthening Solution and lamenting her lost lessons.

When Headmaster Fourier entered, though, everyone fell silent. Fifty-seven pairs of eyes followed him as he strode serenely through pockets of chattering students. He stopped in front of me, Nick, and Rossalene; folded his hands; and bowed his head. "Miss Salinger."

"Headmaster," I greeted him.

"Hogwarts owes you a great debt- _again_," he intoned. "You and your friends have saved us all from a horrible, sleeplike death. We cannot thank you enough."

"All I did was brew a potion," I said sheepishly.

"No," he replied, shaking his head solemnly. "You _found_ the cure- you_ brewed _it-"

"I found the cure thanks to Nick's help, and Lyndsay, Brooklyn and Rossalene helped me brew it," I murmured.

"-and don't forget your contributions to the school from _last _year."

"I couldn't have done it without my friends."

He looked at me and continued, "In honor of you and the Panacea, I would like to announce an end-of-the-year dance. Hopefully it will turn out better than the disastrous Christmas Ball."

A cheer arose from all of the students.

"But first," he reminded us, hushing the cheers, "you have your end-of-course exams. Especially you, fifth- and seventh-years. They begin on Thursday… so those of you who have been in a coma for a long while, say, since Christmas-" he flashed a look at Steven- "I expect you to begin catching up on your studies immediately." Then he swept from the room to grumbles and sighs.

"Aly," Leja called to me from across the room, "couldn't you have waited until _after the_ O.W.L.s to wake us up?"

This remark was greeted with laughs and snickers, and then everyone broke into their little groups again.

Thursday morning dawned bright and early, the examiners having arrived the previous day. The common room was a mess of fifth- and seventh-years poring over their notes- the seventh-years of various subjects, and the fifth-years' of Charms. Our theory exam was to take place that morning. I got a letter from my parents- yes, letters were allowed through!- expressing their relief that a cure had been found (although they seemed not to know that _I _was the one who had discovered it) and wishing me luck on my exams. Lanie- who had awoken bright and ready to go- was quizzing Shawnee on incantations and their uses. Millie paced along the wall, reciting the history of the Revealing Charm- for Professor Brocklehurst had hinted that it would pop up on our exam- while Helen checked if she was right with the book. Will was skimming through five years' worth or Charms notes. Lynne and Eric sat together in the corner, performing little hexes on teacups and causing them to do astounding things such as tap-dance across the table and turn rainbow colors. I read _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five _and _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four _through; but before I could get to _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three_, Professor Zeller- who had herded us back to the common room after breakfast- entered and said, "You'd best come with me, now. We're done setting up the Great Hall."

And set up it was, too. The four long tables had been replaced with about seventy individual desks, each with an adjoining chair; special Anti-Cheating Quills and perfectly normal ink adorned each tabletop. Professor Brocklehurst stood at the head of the room. When we were seated- alphabetically, of course- she waved her wand, distributing all of the exam papers with one swift flick, and looked at us. "Cheating has not successfully occurred on a Hogwarts O.W.L. since 1896. If that does not dissuade you from such an unworthy trick, perhaps the knowledge that you _shall _fail your year should you cheat will." Then she smiled. "You may begin, and the best of luck to all of you."

I turned my eyes to the parchment. My eyes alighted on the third question. _Write the incantation for a Stunning Spell and describe the effects of said charm…_

Smiling- I had read this in _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five_ not half an hour before- I began to write.

Brooklyn caught up with me after the exam was finished. "Did you _see _question fifteen?" she asked, quite out of breath. "_Describe the wand movement for a Silencing Charm in precise detail_? I'm positive I got _that _wrong…"

We had twenty minutes' break until lunch, so Lanie and I took a quick walk around the school grounds. It was warm and bright, and we tried to relax, but we had our Charms practical next- so when we left to go back inside for lunch, the many vines crawling up the outside walls of Hogwarts had been turned to random colors or grown to the size of beanstalks.

I ate a quick lunch of tomato-and-goat-cheese tart, then went back to the commons to bewitch a few books with Levitation Charms before my practical. All in all, the final exam was okay; I only messed up on my Cheering Charm, giving the short, squat, balding examiner a bad case of the hiccups on accident. Luckily, I knew the counter-charm.

Thankfully, no fiascos occurred in the next two exams- Transfiguration on Friday and Herbology on Monday (at least not to _me_, I saw Leja accidentally upend her whole tray of Screechsnap seedlings during the latter exam). Defense Against the Dark Arts on Tuesday went very well, in my opinion; my only slipup was casting too weak of a Shield Charm during my practical so that my examiner- a small woman with a kindly, wrinkled face and a shock of shaggy, greying blond hair- had cast soared right past it. I was able to dodge it, though, and pull off a nice little Impediment Jinx to win the mock duel.

Wednesday brought about my Ancient Runes exam- Brooklyn, who was studying in the Ravenclaw common room with Will, Eric and me, nearly panicked trying to remember the rune for _defense _(Eric had to remind her that it was _eihwaz_). The exam was very easy; only a few runes from the whole of that year were on the test, as it focused mostly on runes from our third and fourth years. Potions on Thursday was similarly easy, although I had more pressure than usual upon my shoulders as Professor Burton caught me before the practical and told me that he expected an _O _after my 'outstanding performance' brewing the Panacea.

Before the Care of Magical Creatures exam on Friday, I sat with Brooklyn and Rossalene on the grassy, green lawn near the Forbidden Forest, waiting for my name to be called. Rossalene was called almost immediately, after people like Mari Bird and Lorie Braithnoch. Brooklyn started muttering to herself about how to properly feed a crup and what to feed it, and I wandered off, pacing around groups of students. My strolling brought me near a group of boys, one of whom was Nick. I heard my name and crouched down with Lanie and Leja (who were sitting not far away), straining to listen.

"…going out with Aly now?" Nate Panther asked. He had officially been dating Millie since the Christmas Ball, and she'd been happier than I'd ever seen her.

"Not _officially_," Nick said.

"Why not, mate?" Tommy pestered.

"Did she refuse you?" Nathan asked. "After all you've done to make it work?"

"It's because Nicky can't hold a girlfriend to save his life," muttered someone (probably Pedro or Nate). The boys dissolved into snickers.

"I can too," defended Nick. "I just… I haven't exactly asked her out yet."

This caused an uproar among the boys.

"You haven't _asked _her yet?" Nate shouted.

"Blimey, I thought you had more nerve!" exclaimed Tommy.

"I haven't had the chance," Nick retorted sharply.

"Go ask her now!" Pedro suggested.

"She wouldn't want me to distract her from her O.W.L.s," Nick replied, and although I was going to be plenty distracted anyways, I couldn't help feeling a rush of gratitude for Nick.

"You know Aly," Nate said, "she'll pass if she's blind and has both hands tied behind her back. Go ask her, mate. Look, she's over with Lanie and Leja. You might be able to ask her before your name is called."

"Go, go," chorused the boys.

"You can do it, mate," Nathan told him confidently. Nathan had been a nice boy, and although he was still mad at me for breaking it off in third year, he wasn't about to stop Nick from going for me.

"Okay," Nick murmured with a twinge of nervousness in his voice. I heard footsteps and then he himself plopped down next to me. Lanie and Leja giggled and moved a little ways away so as to give us some privacy.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," he replied. "Um, I was wondering if I could ask you a quick question."

"Sure," I told him. "Go ahead." I had the word _yes_ on my lips, ready to fire it off-

"Joyner, Bryony! Justice, Nicholas!" called one of the examiners, reading off of a scroll. "Kay, Tamsin! Kelling, Lanie!"

Nick and Lanie got up, along with pretty redheaded Gryffindor Tamsin Kay and overly freckled Hufflepuff Bryony Joyner. Nick cast me a look that quite plainly said _sorry, talk to you later_ and followed Lanie behind the blockade to the exam tables that I couldn't see.

Leja scooted over and nudged me. "So… Nick, huh?"

"Hush," I groaned.

"It's a thing? Officially?"

"_Hush_," I repeated.

I left the Care of Magical Creatures exam feeling confident in my score. I'd fed the crup correctly, identified the knarl in a group of hedgehogs, chosen a reasonably good diet for a sick unicorn, demonstrated the correct handling of a bowtruckle, and made friends with one of the school's resident hippogriffs. Care of Magical Creatures wasn't my favorite class, but it was one that I felt sure I'd passed.

I spent the weekend alternating between catching up on much-needed sleep, relaxing, planning an end-of-exams celebration in the common room, and studying for my last three exams (Theory of Astronomy and Theory of Muggle Studies on Monday, the Astronomy practical that night, and History of Magic theory on Tuesday). Monday came way too fast, but it was my opinion that I hadn't done too bad in both theory exams that day. It was slightly cloudy that night, but I managed to finish all of my star chart for the Astronomy practical- except Mars, I couldn't find Mars for some odd reason.

And then it was time for my last exam.

**Yeah? Yeah? Tell me what you thought below! Thanks! :)**

**~atrfla**


	21. Chapter 21: Fireworks

**You can thank the girls who inspired Lanie and Rossalene for this one. **

Staring down at the final question of my History of Magic exam, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. I was so close to being _done_, and I was ready to finish up this nearly-disastrous school year and move on.

"Five minutes left," called the examiner, the same woman who had tested me for my Defense Against the Dark Arts practical- and, realizing I had been looking at the question and not taking in a word of it, read the blocky script.

_In your opinion, was the attack that began the giant wars of 1878-1884 necessary or could it have been stopped? Give your reasons for this and a possible counterclaim._

_I've got this_, I thought.

I had just finished writing about how the Minsk mountain tribe of giants could have compromised with the tribe of the Madona range, handing over Minsk territorial rights to the mountain ranges there instead of going to war to defend their land, when the greying blonde witch called: "Time's up! Quills down, and no talking."

I twisted in my chair to catch Brooklyn's eye. We grinned in relief. Our O.W.L.s were over, and we wouldn't have to worry about them until July.

Before we were dismissed, however, Headmaster Fourier took the witch's place. He smiled at us and congratulated us on making it through our O.W.L.s, then said, "And you have each planned celebrations in the commons, yes?"

We all murmured _yes_ and nodded.

He clapped. "Well, congratulations. Enjoy your festivities."

The party in the common room was wildly entertaining. Someone put on music by the Weird Sisters, an oldies band, and cleared part of the commons of chairs to create a dance floor. The thumping beat echoed through the alcoves as I danced with Lanie, Shawnee, and Lynne; ate a little bit of everything vegetarian from the feast that the house-elves brought up; drank butterbeer and nibbled on Honeydukes chocolate; and chatted with my friends. The party went on until nearly midnight, when Professor Brocklehurst burst in and ordered us all to bed immediately.

The end-of-the-school-year dance was Thursday, and I spent the morning playing Quidditch with my friends. The match was boys vs. girls: Nick, Nate, Will, Eli, Conor, Jay, and Marshall (who was decent for apparently rarely having played before) in the respective positions of Seeker, Keeper, Beaters, and Chasers versus Lanie, Kayla, me, Lyndsay, Helen, Brooklyn, and Lynne in the same order. Shawnee, Millie, Melody, Faye, Pedro, and a bunch of our other friends watched from the stands, cheering for whichever team they chose. After we straggled off the field (girls narrowly winning after a miracle few saves by Kayla), we went up to the dormitories to get ready.

I wore my (relatively) new dress robes, and Lynne did my makeup, but for that dance I left my frizzy brown hair down. Because of this, I didn't look faelike. I looked like me. (Albeit, a prettier me than normal. But me nonetheless.)

The banners in the Great Hall had been turned light lilac. The candles emitted soft golden auras, sending the whole Hall into a sparkling golden light. But otherwise it looked rather like the setup of the Christmas Ball, with the many tables and chairs and the shining dance floor.

We flooded in, choosing tables at which to sit. The tables could seat eight instead of four, so I sat with Brooklyn, Rossalene, Leja, Lanie, Shawnee, and Lyndsay. The seat on my left remained empty.

"Hello," Headmaster Fourier said grandly, sweeping his arms out. "Welcome to the End-of-Year Ball."

Cheers whistled through the entire Hall.

"I expect you're hungry," Headmaster Fourier went on. "As this dance came on with very little notice, the house-elves of the kitchens have created a feast, but not a personalized one. Our deepest apologies, but… enjoy!"

Food appeared on the tables, and I tucked in to a large dish of vegetarian shepherd's pie. Dessert brought chocolate cake and treacle tarts, and together we cleared the table of these- myself, Brooklyn, Lanie and Leja finishing off most of the former while the rest ate mostly the latter. When everyone was full and the food was gone, Nick appeared at my side, slipping into the empty seat beside me as the musicians- the same group of seventh-years who had played at the last ball- struck up a jaunty tune and couples moved onto the dance floor. Among them I spotted Lynne and Johnny, Matt and Cher, Tommy and Juliet, Austin and Kit, and Brooklyn and Kian (who had grown closer over the past few weeks).

"_Go!_" hissed Rossalene, nudging me pointedly between my shoulder blades.

I blushed. Nick smiled and held out his hand wordlessly. I took it, smiled back, and led him onto the dance floor, where we joined the dancing pairs in the bouncy two-step.

One song passed. Two. Three. I lost myself in the music and in Nick's arms, but at the same time I was aware of Nick's friends and my own watching us approvingly, even as they danced as well. Nick too must have felt the weight of so many eyes upon us, because he suggested, "D'you fancy a walk?"

It was a cool, clear night, but after five minutes of walking calmly around the gardens talking and holding hands, Professor Zeller came to find us and told us that we had to come back in.

"You're welcome to walk around the school," she said with an apologetic smile. "It's just that there are rumors of acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest, and they're supposed to come out at night." Her blue eyes twinkled merrily, and she added, "We've made it through this year so far with no casualties. I wouldn't want two lovebird students to get eaten walking around at night." Patting her flyaway grey braid to make sure it didn't come loose thanks to the night breeze, she went back inside and we followed her.

She went back to the Hall, but we didn't; wandering around and continuing our hushed conversation- speaking of friends, exams, family, and our summer plans- we stumbled upon an empty classroom from which odd sucking noises were emanating. Exchanging glances, we pushed open the door and stepped in.

"Oh." I turned away. The noises were coming from Tommy and Juliet- apparently, the room wasn't empty after all- who were snogging in the center of the room. They were so wrapped up in kissing each other that they didn't even notice us enter.

"If we can't stop them," Nick said, and I turned to look at him, "which I'm not about to try, I guess we'd better join them." Then he placed his hands on the sides of my face, drew me close, and- before I could even react- kissed me.

Fireworks sparked in my brain, my senses exploding with giddiness, and I threw my arms around Nick's neck- not caring about sense or other people seeing me- and kissed him back.

One of Nick's hands worked its way into my hair, clutching the back of my head through the curls, and the other dropped to the small of my back, pulling me closer to him. I relished being near him, kissing him, his lips on mine, sensations I'd never thought I'd feel-

And then he broke away, probably needing air. We stared at each other for a moment, blocking out Tommy and Juliet, my green eyes boring into his turquoise ones and vice versa, before I smiled and kissed him again.

***unnaturally girlish squeal***


	22. Chapter 22: Finale

**Hey guys! So the copy-paste thing was kind of messed up, but this is the repost of the chapter. I'm sorry that I haven't posted in a bit, it's finals time! But with no further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you... the final chapter of _Fifth Year!_**

"In fourth place, with five hundred and thirty-three points… _Hufflepuff House!"_

We applauded lightly; I saw kids like Ana, Kayla, and Mari sigh in disappointment, but they kept smiles on their faces.

"In third place, with five hundred and eighty-seven points, _Slytherin House!_" Headmaster Fourier continued.

We applauded again- I saw Kian, who was sitting next to Brooklyn with his arm around her, and Brooklyn herself frown and sigh- and then Headmaster Fourier declared Gryffindor the second-place winner with six hundred and forty points. I kept the first-year sitting next to me from going ballistic once he figured out that that meant…

"And our winner: _Ravenclaw House_, with seven hundred and eighteen points!"

Ravenclaws jumped up, first-years and seventh-years alike, hooting and yelling and cheering as loudly as they had when we won the Quidditch Cup while the other Houses clapped politely. Lanie and I exchanged grins across the table, and I high-fived Shawnee, Millie, and Helen. Lynne hugged me tightly.

"And now," Headmaster Fourier announced- for we had already eaten- "to your beds. I look forward to seeing most of you next year! Have a nice summer, all."

The next morning I woke up bright and early. Fingering the Ravenclaw banners on the walls, I thought of summer. I often saw Brooklyn, but- Nick? He had asked me out after the kisses, and I had accepted. Would I see him over the holidays? What about my other friends- Rossalene, Lanie, Lynne, Lyndsay, the lot?

"Why are you up so early?"

I turned to see Millie rubbing her eyes, her streaky dark hair a matted mess. "Just thinking about how much I'll miss this place."

"We always do," she agreed, stifling a yawn. "Oh- did you hear about Leja?"

This piqued my interest. "No. What about her?"

"She's not coming back."

This caught me by surprise, shocking me to the core. "_What?! _Why?"

"Yeah," Millie said sadly, nodding. "Her parents are sick and tired of the whole danger thing at Hogwarts, so they switched her. She's going to Beauxbatons next year."

"Mr. Rice _agreed _to that? Didn't he go to Durmstrang?"

"Yeah, but you know Mrs. Rice. She's a force to be reckoned with."

"True," I allowed, stroking the soft blue curtains hanging by my bed.

"Anyway, Marcus is going to Durmstrang, so I suppose that appeased him," guessed Millie.

"I suppose it did."

"Hey, have you seen my latest edition of _Transfiguration Today_?" Millie asked, changing the subject. "I can't seem to find it, and I wanted to show my mother the fascinating article on page three about Muggle transfiguration…"

I had, in the common room; I went down and fetched it for her. When all of us were up and packed, there was a knock on our door. It was a second-year girl, who informed us that Will was standing at the bottom of the stairs asking for Aly.

Sliding down the steps (he'd tried to ascend into our dormitory on his own, apparently, activating the founder-laid curse that turns the stairs into a slide), I got neatly to my feet. Will was there, patiently waiting, holding a furry black-and-white bundle-

"_Dauncey!_" I cried, flinging myself at him. Will transferred him to me. Cradling my cat in my arms, I felt despicable. As Dauncey's owner, it was _my _duty to take care of him- and I'd neglected him. In fact, I'd been so busy and stressed that I'd forgotten all about my cat. "Where- how-"

"He wandered into my dorm in late December," Will answered. "I've been meaning to return him, but you seemed busy- and, well, I enjoy having him around."

I looked down at Dauncey, who was purring contentedly in my arms. "You should take him. You're the one who's been taking care of him, like a _true_ owner." I held out my pet.

He waved me away. "No. I get it, you were stressed out. You'll do better next year, when there's not as much work to stress over."

I stroked Dauncey's head. "In that case, I can't thank you enough."

"You're welcome," Will said. Then he disappeared up the boys' staircase.

When Dauncey and I were ready, we ate a last breakfast in the Great Hall- Dauncey gobbling down some toast and eggs and purring happily- before setting off. Rossalene, Brooklyn and I found an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express after bidding goodbye to Headmaster Fourier, Professor Brocklehurst, Professor Gedding, and the other teachers. Halfway through the ride, Nick, Nate and Kian entered our compartment, and we had a chummy (although somewhat crowded) time of it- trading Chocolate Frog cards, taste-testing Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, chatting about our summer plans, and playing games. We were nearly done with one last game of Exploding Snap (courtesy of Nate, whose parents worked at Zonko's and ensured that he got free merchandise too often) when the train began to slow. I'd worn my Muggle clothes under my robes, so I pulled the robes off and stuffed them unceremoniously into my trunk.

We pulled into King's Cross. Scanning the crowd of families for my mum and dad, I found them in the back, standing with Brooklyn's parents.

We disembarked, holding on tightly to our trunks and pets' cages. Rossalene pulled her brother our from a knot of hugging second-years and ran off, dragging him along, presumably heading to find her parents. Nick vanished from my side somewhere in the crowd, as did Nate, but Brooklyn and I marched together toward our families, picking Libby up along the way.

"Aly!" my mother shrieked, losing her customary cool for one second and rushing forward to hug me, her dark hair swinging over her shoulder. My dad followed her and hugged me from the other side, so that I was encased in a parental-hug sandwich. I hugged them back. "Hi, Mum. Hey, Dad."

"We heard about the plague," my mum said, gripping my face in both of her hands. "How couldn't we? It was all over the front page of the _Daily Prophet_, and all everyone ever talked about in the office- I wrote a little piece on it, too, and we were so worried- but then everyone said a cure had been found, and we got a letter from Professor Fourier- _Headmaster _Fourier, I mean- explaining how _you_ had been the student to find the cure, and- oh, I'm just so glad you're safe!" She hugged me again, more tightly.

I pulled away, but not before she could plant a kiss on my forehead. "I'm all right, Mum."

"What happened?" my dad wanted to know. He'd cut his curls off over the year, and his newly short brown hair was gelled into staying flat.

I reached up, running my hand over it. "You cut your hair is what happened!"

"At _Hogwarts_," he clarified. "With the plague?"

I looked back, managing to catch a glimpse of Nick, who was standing with his family, watching me. His little sister- who was only nine years old and would be attending Hogwarts when we were seventh-years- ran around him, her dark red hair coming loose from its haphazard ponytail, while his parents watched, smiling and talking. Nick winked at me with one beautiful blue-green eye. We'd talked about getting together over the summer, and he swore he'd send me an owl about it. And then a group of sixth-years moved in front of him, blocking him from my sight.

I turned back to my parents. "I'll tell you all about it on the way to Rowena's Borough. Let's go home."

**SQUEEEEEEEEEE! I hope you guys liked it as much as I did. This is my first complete story, as I've never done any oneshots or anything. So... yeah! Go ahead and review, or read the chapter (or story) over again if you so desire. Just remember that _Fifth Year-_ and its upcoming sequel, _Fourth Year- _will always be there to welcome you... home.**

**~atrfla**


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